By: Heart beat nightingale
Disclimer: I own nothing you'll recognize.
A/N: as i have already said in my bio, my natal language is spanish, so i apologise for the grammar and spelling mistakes, i'm doing my best!
Prologue
Her eyes were blank, and yet not dark. Her trance was deep, but her words were clear. Her features were soft as the softest of rose petals, while her golden long hair danced together with the cold night breeze, and her skin irradiated the light of the nocturn stars.
Hard as rock, cold as marbele
Half the bit, but not the entire.
A war she'll cause, though not for her faults,
A decition she'll take, and our destiny will be sail.
Unshade she her sward, and fight for the world,
The right decition she'll take, and our fate she will save.
The stars she'll greet, and their fire will live,
In the beat of her hart, and the strength of her mind.
Now half the half the strongest it is,
The fire she'll lead, and the fire she'll beat.
Now, the wrong one take she,
then the sky'll grow gryish,
and the age of the elfish,
will soon have to perish.
And men will ask why,
Why the beauty has died,
And dwarves'll answer them,
Because the dawn has come.
The tall elf remain silent, his hair moving in the rythm of the stars, and the lady opened her eyes, and gasped heavily, getting her breath back. The black haired elf lowered his head and offered the lady a poltite arm, and help her stand up right.
The elven lady turned her head towards him, and dropped heavily her long beautiful eyelashes.
"A prophesy... a prophesy, Lord Elrond, done under the dragon constelation's light, what does it mean? The dawn of the elves? The age of menkind and dragons?" The blonde elven Lady asked, worriedness in her tone of voice. Her ocean blue eyes shone with a fading light, and once again, her eyelides droped heavily, revealing her mental conection with time, and the oldest and wisest of the elven hearts.
Elrond shook his head, sadly, not bearing the single thought of the fall of his people.
"'Half the bit, but not the entire...', 'Half the half the strongest it is'...it also refeared at fire as a glorious weapon or a dreadful one...fire...dragons...dragons can't mean any good, Lady Galadriel" the voice of the elf echoed in her mind.
Lady Galadriel shook her blond head graciously.
"No...not dragons...it's something to do with the past, something not even i can remember about the begining of times, before the raise of the Trees, before the power of the Valars, before the Music was played. It has to do with the time of the Hollow, the Empty, the time un wich the Allmighty Iluvatar crated beings..."
Elrond bent down and carefully picked up the pensive which had recorded the elven Lady's words, and stared at it deeply. Before he could say anything else, Lady Galadriel spoke onece again.
"We must take the pensive to the old of the oldest, the habitant of the Old Forest, far north, Tom Bombadil'll have the answer to our question. We shall send Mirkwood's price, Legolas Greenleaf to him, that shall be enough for the time being, and look forward for an answer."
"Let it be, then."
Elrond bowed down, and walk away from her, taking the pensive in his hands, and leaving the elven lady alone. Once on her own her strength decay, and her thoughts faded away, under the star lighten sky, and the celestial dragon's eye.