Disclaimer: Let's see…if I were really JRR Tolkien I'd be dead and therefore unable to type. I love my logic…
Author's Note: I'm trying to get some character sketches done to put on a homepage (once I figure out how to work the stupid thing). So I'll keep you posted.
For those who lost a loved one in the traumatic events of September 11, 2001, please know that you are in my prayers. Buildings may fall, but hope and freedom will prevail in the end. May we all find peace.
Chapter Seventeen
The rest of the Fellowship eventually arrived at the haven and Lothlorien elves presented us with some fresh food and new clothing. The food was rather peculiar. Most of our nourishment came in the form of very thin, wafer-like cakes. Gimli eyed them suspiciously.
"Cram," he muttered under his breath. I shuddered. Cram, code word for crap. It was Styrofoam-like cake that bore a vague resemblance to something edible, and it had been forced down my throat on more than one occasion. I had often commented that it tasted like something that had been scraped off the soles of my shoes, but Aragorn just told me to be quiet and eat. Gimli unwrapped the cake from it's packaging and cautiously nibbled on the corner. His beady little eyes suddenly widened and he literally inhaled the rest of the cake making primitive grunts as he chewed. I gave him a strange look and grimaced slightly. There is nothing more disgusting than a dwarf who finds it necessary to shove food in his face as fast as possible.
"No more, no more!" exclaimed some of the elves, laughing. "You have eaten enough already for a long day's march."
"I thought it was only a kind of cram, such as the Dalemen make for journeys in the wild," Gimli said, crumbs caught in the tangles of his beard. I held back a fit of laughter and a whole bunch of sarcastic comments.
"So it is," replied one of the elves. "But we call it lembas or waybread, and it is more strengthening than any food made by Men, and it is more pleasant than cram by all accounts."
"Why it is better than the honey-cakes of the Beornings, and that is great praise, for the Beornings are the best bakers I know of…" Gimli began, his eyes nearly glowing.
"And Gimli knows quality," I added before I realized what I was saying. Fortunately, Gimli did not pick up on the sarcasm and nodded in agreement.
"Aye. You are kindly hosts!" he exclaimed, licking the crumbs from his fingers.
"All the same, we bid you to spare the food," replied the elf. "Eat a little at a time and only at need. The cakes will keep sweet for many, many days if they are unbroken and left in their leaf wrappings, as we have brought them. One will keep a traveler on his feet for a day of long labor, even if he be one of the tall men of Minas Tirith." I looked at the speaker gratefully.
"You are my new best friend," I declared seriously. He chuckled and waved it away as a joke, but the poor soul didn't know me…
The elves then opened nine parcels. Nine silky cloaks were removed from their wrappings and presented to each member of the Fellowship. I examined mine in awe. The fabric was soft and light, but it also appeared to be durable and good protection against the elements. The color was ever changing, going from a deep green to a soft brown in the late morning sun. A small leaf-shaped brooch fastened it at the neck.
"Are these magic cloaks?" Pippin asked, his eyes filled with awe as he let the silky material slide over his hands.
"I do not know what you mean," replied the elf, shrugging his shoulders slightly. "They are fair garments and the web is good, for it was made in this land. They are elvish robes certainly, if that is what you mean. Leaf and branch, water and stone; they have the hue and beauty of all these things under the twilight of Lorien that we love; for we put the thought of all that we love into all that we make. Yet they are garments, not armor and they will not turn shaft or blade. But they will serve you well; they are light to wear and warm enough or cool enough at need. And you will find them a great aid in keeping out of the sight of unfriendly eyes, whether you walk among the stones or trees. You are indeed in high favor of the Lady! For she herself and her maidens wove this stuff; and never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people." I smiled happily, wrapping the cloak around my shoulders. I was thrilled at the prospect of having such a fine piece of clothing in my possession—my own cloak was becoming worn and threadbare, making me feel like I was wearing Swiss cheese rather than a cloak. I began to plan how I would convert the old one into a pillow, as I was not looking forward to waking up with cricks in my neck. I also had nothing to wallop Legolas with when he woke me up for lessons. I sighed happily, temporarily satisfied with the state of affairs.
*
Eventually it became time for us to depart and we packed up the boats with heavy hearts. There were three boats. Boromir, Merry, and Pippin were to ride in the first, with Aragorn, Frodo, and Sam in the next. I was to travel in the same boat as Legolas and Gimli, along with most of our supplies. I wasn't really looking forward to it much—granted it was funny when Gimli turned purple with rage, but sitting with him in a tiny space for hours on end is a bit overwhelming. And a very, very, long Sindarin oral quiz loomed threateningly in my near future.
Although I was bent on staying, it eventually became time to leave the fair wood. I settled onto the wooden bench in the boat, stashing my pack beneath with the food and water. I reluctantly picked up the white oar, running my fingers over the silvery carvings. Gimli sat in the front end of the boat, grumbling to himself about the seating arrangements. I smiled in spite of myself.
Legolas stood with one foot resting in the boat, the other on the muddy bank. He leaned forward, pushing the boat away from the shore with one foot. He easily transferred himself into the boat and sat down on the remaining seat, retrieving an oar from the wooden floor. What amazed me was that he managed to not tip the entire thing over. I thought of how Gimli would react if he fell in the river.
"ARGH!!! Cleanliness! Gasp…my beard! Do you realize how long it will take to fix this??? The grease will take three days alone to return!" I could almost hear him shout. Or even better: "I'm mellllllting…" I started laughing uncontrollably. Legolas looked at me oddly and Gimli growled, almost as if he knew I was laughing at his expense.
I finally calmed down after Gimli began to threaten to toss me overboard. Still chuckling, I dipped my oar into the water, creating miniature whirlpools as I paddled slowly forward, beginning my watery path toward evil.
And having Gimli in the boat did not make me feel more optimistic.
We easily traveled over the water, the boat gliding across the surface as smoothly and quickly as a warm knife through butter. Though the occasion was sad, rowing calmed me as though it was some strange form of meditation.
We came to a bend in the river. We slowly followed the curve, our smooth course constant, and our pace steady. As we turned with the river, what appeared to be a magnificent white swan came into view, gliding gently across the dark water. I frowned.
"Dammit, I hate those stupid birds," I muttered, recalling an unpleasant occurrence on one particular fifth grade field trip. Legolas paused in his movements and peered at the bird.
"That is no swan," he replied quietly. I looked at it closely.
"My mistake, that's not a swan, that is clearly an oversized rabbit," I replied sarcastically. Legolas gave me a look.
"It is no living creature at all—it is the ship of the Lady Galadriel," he said, solemnly dipping his oar into the water. I looked closer. Although the idea was completely insane, it seemed quite believable as I watched it approach. I began to pick out the black oars that propelled it through the water and the oarsmen who worked them. Two unidentifiable figures stood motionlessly at the bow, clothed in white. As they drew closer, a soft music began to play and I realized that it was indeed the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn.
"Next thing you know there'll be flying pigs and clean dwarves," I muttered, awed by the approaching vessel.
The ship eventually drew alongside us. Galadriel smiled slightly and greeted us.
"We have come to bid you our last farewell and to speed you with blessings from our land," she explained, her voice soft and comforting.
"Though you have been our guests," continued Celeborn, "you have not yet eaten with us, and we bid you, therefore, to a parting feast, here between the flowing waters that will bear you far from Lorien." My eyes widened.
Food…I'm starved…
*
We ate our meal in a small clearing on the grassy bank of the river. The food was delicious and I consequently focused nearly all my attention on eating, and therefore unable to pay attention to the conversation throughout the meal.
Eventually the serving bowls grew empty, the plates littered with crumbs. I downed the rest of my water, and sat back with a sigh, feeling bloated, but strangely contented. Galadriel suddenly rose and filled a silver goblet with white mead with the help of one of her cloned handmaidens.
"Now it is time to drink the cup of farewell," she announced, handing the goblet to Celeborn. "Drink to the Lord of the Galadrim! And let not your heart be sad, though night must follow noon, and already our evening draweth nigh."
She brought the cup around to every member of the Fellowship, and bade us to drink. I took a small sip, incredibly thankful that Gimli would drink last, and therefore not contaminate the rest of the Fellowship with whatever germs lived in that beard of his. However, it appeared that Sam had not been too diligent when cleaning his teeth this morning…
"We have drunk the cup of parting," said Galadriel quietly once the cup was empty, "and the shadows fall between us. But before you go, I have brought in my ship gifts which the Lord and Lady of Galadrim now offer you in memory of Lothlorien." I perked up at the word 'gifts.' Presents were fun and I could always use more stuff, especially since all of it had been left in another world…
"Here is the gift of Celeborn and Galadriel to the leader of your Company," she said, addressing Aragorn. She presented him with a sheath. It was a work of art, silver and gold flowers and leaves twisting up and down its length, small gems spelling out elven runes with a precise and stunning detail. "The blade that is drawn from this sheath shall not be stained or broken, even in defeat," continued Galadriel in her soft tone. "But is there aught else that you desire of me at our parting? For darkness will flow between us, and it may be that we shall not meet again, unless it be far hence upon a road that has no returning."
"Lady, you know all my desire, and long held in keeping the only treasure I seek. Yet it is not yours to give me, even if you would; and only through darkness shall I come to it," replied Aragorn, bowing his head humbly. I bit my lip in confusion.
"Yet maybe this will lighten your heart," replied Galadriel kindly, "for it was left in my care to be given to you, should you pass through this land." She lifted a green stone from her lap, set in a silver brooch, which had been made in the likeliness of an eagle with outspread wings. It sparkled brilliantly in the sun. "This stone I gave to my daughter…and she to hers; and now it comes to you as a token of hope. In this hour take the name that was foretold for you, Elessar, the Elfstone of the house of Elendil!"
The what? I asked myself as Aragorn pinned the brooch to his cloak. Receiving and expecting no answer, I added that of my list of questions.
Aragorn thanked Galadriel, using overly fancy words that confused me to an even greater extent. With less ceremony, Galadriel then presented a belt of gold to Boromir and smaller silver belts to Merry and Pippin.
Is this her way of saying that the world doesn't need to know the color of their underwear? I thought to myself as the three admired their gifts. She gave Legolas a bow and a set of arrows nestled in a quiver. They too bore beautiful carvings of the elves and Legolas admired it as though it was the greatest thing since…I don't know, but he nearly worshipped that thing.
Sam was given a box of dirt. It sounds like a cruddy gift, maybe even insulting, but it was apparently the closest thing to Elven Miracle-Gro, as it was dirt from the garden of Galadriel, which, when sprinkled in a garden, would make everything bloom like crazy. And Sam didn't just have a green thumb, he had a green hand, arm, foot, and leg. He was one of those people who could keep one of those gardening stores in business. He flushed and hugged the box to his chest tightly. It would have made such a cute picture…
"And what gift would a Dwarf ask of the Elves?" asked Galadriel, turning to Gimli.
"How 'bout some deodorant?" I volunteered. My hand flew to cover my mouth as I fully realized what I had said. Aragorn looked at me sharply, Boromir glared, and Legolas looked at me impassively, with a trace of amusement. Pippin giggled.
But fortunately a major ear wax build up or something else had plugged up Gimli's ears and he did not hear my comment, nor did he withdraw his axe, which, I noted, he had sharpened last night. I sighed gratefully.
"None Lady," replied Gimli. "It is enough for me to have seen the Lady of the Galadrim and heard her gentle words."
Gimli can certainly talk smooth when he wants to, I thought. I was then assaulted with a large amount of bad images.
"Here all ye Elves!" shouted Galadriel. "Let none again say the Dwarves are grasping and ungracious! Yet surely there is something that I could give…"
Gimli, after refusing several times, asked for a strand of her hair, which "surpasses the gold of the earth." It became difficult not to laugh at this point, as Gimli was completely enamored with Galadriel and doing some serious flirting. But the slightly annoyed and tensed look Aragorn gave me sobered me right up.
"And Haley Logan," she finally said, casting her gaze upon me. She extended her hand. On her ivory palm rested a small diamond shaped pendant of a stunning silver. A round and clear stone rested comfortably in the middle, its diameter barely the width of my smallest finger. It hung upon a fine silver chain. My jaw dropped. "A token to remind you of Lothlorien." Her voice dropped to a whisper. "And remember, do not hide what you feel, especially for others." I caught a mysterious twinkle in her eye, almost as if she knew something I didn't. "I wish you luck on this journey. May your heart remain pure and true." She clasped the chain around my neck, whispering a faint farewell. I placed my hand over the pendant, hearing her words echo in my head.
"And you, Ring-bearer," Galadriel said, turning to the hobbit. "I come to you last who are not last in my thoughts. For you, I have prepared this." She held up a crystal phial. The crystal glittered in the sunlight while another light seemed to emanate from the phial itself. "I give you the light of Eärendil, our most beloved star. May it be a light for you in dark places, where all other lights go out." Frodo accepted the phial from her, his blue eyes wide in amazement. He bowed to the Lady.
And that marked the end of our stay in Lothlorien. Our farewells had been said and there was nothing else left to do. I climbed into my boat, my heart heavy with sadness, ready, but not anticipating the journey that lay ahead.
A/N: Sorry this took so long! I've been working on it for a long time, but school's been keeping me busy. I had to put the gift-giving scene in there…I love it. They took out so much from the movie... BRING BACK TOM BOMBADIL PETER JACKSON!!!
AND GUESS WHAT??? My chorus is doing May it Be!!! It's three-part harmony and it's sooooooooo pretty! I want to hire Orlando and Elijah to come onstage…well I think it's a good idea…