Title: The Mirror
Author: Dreamiflame
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Tolkien estates owns them, not I.
Note: Written for the One Ring to Rule Them All challenge at . If it seems partially incomplete, it is, but I decided to participate in the Unfinished Fic Amnesty Week at , and realised it will never be more finished than this.
There's still a mirror in the gardens of Lothlorien. No one likes to look in it anymore, for it taunts those who do with a vision of how the future might have been. And it is little use to see what might have been and never will be, for it breaks the heart. The Lady sentences those who displease her to look in the Mirror.

Sam works in her gardens of Lothlorien. He thinks, though she has never taken him aside and said so, that he is the guardian of the Mirror. He avoids looking in it himself, but keeps the grass neatly trimmed around its base. The children that laughed up at him the one time he peeked in haunt his dreams. They were his children, Sam is sure of that. And they will never be born, not beneath the Lady's rule.

He cries sometimes, when he wakes, for the laughing Hobbit children that never were.

Frodo has not looked in the Mirror since he offered the Ring to the Lady. He is afraid of it, and that fear spurs him to do his work as well as he can. His shoulder hurts now only in the presence of the Nine, so he stays away from them, as well, keeping to himself in the Lady's library. Sometimes he misses Sam, and the Shire, but he doesn't let himself dwell upon it.

He had decided, long ago, it is better not to dream.

Boromir left the Golden Woods and has never returned. He fought in many of the final battles and bears the scars to this day. In Gondor, he serves his king, and tries to keep from remembering too much. He looked into the Mirror only once, and saw his death. No matter how much the people around him complain, Boromir cannot be displeased with the Lady's rule.

He lives only because he never had the chance to try for the Ring. The thought wakes him in the night, and he stares at the darkened ceiling, stiff with fear.

Aragorn has taken his rightful place as king of Gondor, and Arwen as his Queen. He looked in the Mirror shortly before he left for Gondor, and what he saw there still haunts him. He is torn between distaste for the things he sees done in the Lady's name, at her whim, and the thought of friends who might have died. Aragorn holds Arwen close at night to keep the thoughts at bay.

He rules because it is the Lady's will he does, not because he feels he has earned the right.

Legolas lives still in Lothlorien, far from his native Mirkwood. An archer in the Lady's service during the war, he saw much of the fighting, and the many times she used her power to turn the tide. He looks into the Mirror daily, tormenting himself with what might have been.

Gimli died in his arms at Helm's Deep, and the only thing Legolas has never been able to discover is why she let the Dwarf die. Love burns still in his heart for the slain warrior, and Legolas shimmers in darkness.

And the Lady watches them all, the Ring a heavy comforting weight on her hand. She controls them all, and it is as it should be.