Disclaimer: Kiddy Korner: Can you help Fred solve this problem? If Peter Jackson and all his little friends at AOL Time Warner own the movie Lord of the Rings and all that other related stuff, and if JRR Tolkien and all his people own the book series, what does Blue Kat own?
Answer: Did you say 'Nothing'? Well gosh gee golly whiz, you were right! Blue Kat doesn't own anything, and never will unless she makes a couple of billion dollars right now…
A/N: Okay, a lot of people have been asking me… "When's the romance coming in?" Well…this chapter will start some stuff…but the romance will be rather gradual at first. It's gonna happen though…I promise…lots of it. I just don't want to rush things…I don't want to run out of romance ideas before Return of the King. Ya know? Cause if I started it really soon, then I'd eventually run out of ideas before the end. This chapter will reveal more, I promise. That is, if I write as much as I plan to…I'm rambling, so I'm going to shut up now…
Chapter Fifteen
Lothlorien was as beautiful as Moria was terrifying.
The trees were incredible, becoming as wide and as tall as the famous California redwoods as we journeyed deep into the heart of the woods. They fascinated me. They were about as ordinary as any other trees, but they possessed a certain inner beauty that simply awed me. The forest floor was lush and green with plants and other forest growth of equal magnificence. I soon decided that everything that grew in Lothlorien was perfect, as though it had been fed with some elven Miracle-Gro. The few waterfalls, fountains, and streams we came across were beautiful and clear, their melodious trickle ringing merrily throughout the forest.
Just when I thought I couldn't be any more amazed, I saw the houses.
Beautifully sculpted and carved dwellings had been constructed in the trees, nearly making me trip over my own feet in awe. Like Rivendell, they possessed a certain architectural splendor that made them utterly breathtaking, making it outright impossible to describe the magnificence that had been so perfectly captured in one place.
Aragorn gave me a nudge, jolting me out of my dream-like awe. Haldir had begun to lead us up a flight of stairs that twined around the immense trunk of a particularly large tree. Softly glowing lights lighted the way, produced by some unidentifiable source. The glow reminded me slightly of Christmas lights.
If the elves were smart enough to make glowing light things, then why can't the dwarves use railings? I asked myself as I ascended the stairs.
We walked for a while, climbing long stretches of low stairs by the blue glow of the lights. It grew darker as we climbed; the patches of sky that peeked through the leaves dark with twilight. I looked out through the arches in the stair, openly gaping at the view. It was incredible. I could see other dwellings, all of equal majesty, and the upper parts of the trees that I had not been able to see when I was on the ground. I made the mistake of looking over the edge once—you'd think by then I would have learned—and got rather dizzy as I realized we were up really high. I didn't do that again.
We eventually came to what appeared to be a house completely constructed out of intricate trellises. The entrance was simply a stone staircase—Lothlorien elves apparently did not believe in doors. I climbed the staircase with the rest of the Fellowship, my heart beating with anticipation.
The staircase led us to an open area, beautiful and polished with the work of the elves. Another set of stairs led up to an unidentifiable room, the blue shadows shrouding it from view. I waited impatiently, playing with the hem of my shirt.
A soft white light began to shine in front of me as two figures stepped forward. As they descended the staircase, the light slowly diminished to an even softer glow, allowing me to clearly see the figures. The one on my left was a male elf with a regal presence. His hair was white-blonde, hanging several inches past his shoulders, part of it pulled back. He was impeccably dressed in a white tunic and a grey robe of intricate fabric. He was good-looking, but his expression was somber, as though something was weighing him down tremendously.
His companion was female, and also an elf. She had a queenly stature and I immediately identified her as the mysterious Lady of the Wood. She was extremely beautiful, with a fair complexion and slightly wavy blonde hair that hung nearly to her waist. She was clothed in all white, her gown made out of lace that looked almost too fragile to wear. She wore a simple woven circlet on her head and no other jewelry. I looked into her eyes. They were ice blue, and filled with a gentle kindness. But as I looked closer, I felt as though there was something more powerful and frightening concealed behind those eyes. Goodness as well as a terrible power was present in her, making me rather frightened. She was gorgeous, but there was something strangely sinister about her beauty.
"Nine there are here, yet ten there were set out from Rivendell," began the man, his tone steady and sure. "Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him."
"He has fallen into shadow…" the Lady of the Wood replied, her eyes looking somewhat sorrowed. "The quest stands upon the edge of a knife," she continued, with a sense of gentle warning in her once troubled tone. "Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all…" She looked at us pensively for a moment. "Yet hope remains as long as the company is true…" Another pause. "Do not let your hearts be troubled…" A hint of motherliness crept into her voice. "Go now, and rest, for you are weary with toil and much sorrow. Tonight you shall sleep in peace."
She stopped, and then looked at each member of the Fellowship individually. Strangely, the person she looked at could never return her gaze for long. At last she came to me.
"Ah yes, Haley Logan…" a soft voice whispered. I looked around, wondering if anyone had heard it. Apparently no one had. I turned my gaze back to the Lady of the Wood. "You have journeyed from a land far away, bringing mystification to those you meet…" I shrugged. "But behind the sarcasm and witty remarks, there are feelings that you deny the existence of…" I raised my eyebrows in question. "You know of what I speak…" Her eyes seemed to bore into mine and I found myself looking at the ground.
"No…I don't…unless it's my secret love of the theme from 'Titanic'…and you really shouldn't pop into people's minds like that. It's kind of weird…" I thought, or rather "said" to her.
"Do not use wit to shield you, Haley…" she replied.
"I'm not…hello?" I looked up. The Lady's gaze had moved on, leaving me to talk to myself.
*
After our meeting (I later learned that the man was called Celeborn and the Lady of the Wood was Galadriel) I was separated from the rest of the group and ushered off to the equivalent of an elven hospital. I remember little of the time I spent there, and the bits and pieces I can recall are hazy and dim. The next coherent thought I had was in my room. I had just woken from a light sleep that I did not remember succumbing to. I was in my own private room, which was constructed out of the same trellis-like material as the dwelling of Celeborn and Galadriel. Gauzy curtains covered the walls so that the room remained private, while still allowing light to shine through. I was resting in a comfortable bed, the comforter drawn up to my chin. A late morning breeze wafted through the curtains and wind chimes tinkled in the distance.
"Where the hell am I?" I asked no one in particular. I waited for an answer. Finding none, I pulled off the comforter and swung my legs over the side of the bed. A dull ache in my side reminded me of my wound. I lifted up the corner of my nightgown to examine it. The sides of the cut had seemingly been drawn together and all that remained was a long pink line, with no sign of the black coloring. I gingerly poked at it. It was sore, almost as if I had some stitches removed, but I figured I'd live. I slipped off the bed, intent on taking a good, long bath.
*
It was late at night and I had wandered into a garden, it's many fountains spewing sparkling crystal into the air. I traced my fingers along the damp stone, basking in the serenity. I was clean and bathed, my hair having experienced the luxury of a good shampoo, the dirt beneath my nails completely gone. My clothes were clean—new even. I had not worn a dress in over a month, nor had I had such clean clothing. There was nothing more that I could ask for.
Strong arms wrapped around my waist and I spun around. A familiar figure, his face hidden by the shadows was revealed. I opened my mouth to scream.
"Don't speak," he whispered, his voice strikingly familiar, yet strangely unidentifiable. I closed my mouth, swallowing my words for no reason other than that he asked me to.
His face slowly moved closer to mine and my heart thudded with anticipation, for an unexplainable reason. His lips were only a breath away from mine, and the shadow seemed to gradually withdraw from his face. I felt the soft touch of his lips against mine and the shadow was nearly gone…
I sat up in bed, sweating and breathing heavily. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I realized I was in my own room. It had been a dream, the first dream I had since arriving in Middle-earth. I heaved a sigh of relief and leaned back heavily into the pillows, closing my eyes. I tried desperately to place the voice of the man, but I came up with nothing.
It was just a dream anyway… I thought to myself. It's not like a prophecy or something like that.
"Lies…" a voice whispered on the breeze. I shook my head, thinking I had imagined it when it sounded again. "Lies…" I frowned in uncertainty, pondering these strange occurrences until the very fist breath of dawn began to light the sky.