"And stay out!!" shouted the captain. As they stumbled down the walkway, Silvawen bumped into Isauriel, knocking her to the ground, and then tripped over the fallen sister. Arian, Nilia and Rath soon followed.
"I can't believe you did it," said Rath. "I just can't believe you really did it. You turned the masts back into trees."
"It was not intentional," said Silva. "It just… happened."
"And turning the First Officer into a small potted plant?" said Arian, crossly, with her arms folded.
"I swear to you, Arian, I do not know how it happened! One minute he was challenging my authority and the next, there was a pretty pot of flowers before me."
"Look, let us leave before she does anything else," said Nilia.
"You make me sound dangerous."
"That's because you are," said Riel.
"I'll second that," said a deep, male voice from behind them. The five women looked round and saw Olórin and the other four travellers.
"Olórin?" Arian said. The five male Maiar Spirits had aged considerably.
"You must call me Gandalf now," he replied.
"What happened?" Silva asked. In the Valinor, they had had the look of young Men, but now they like withered old conjurers.
"That is a question we should be asking you. When we Maiar spirits enter Middle Earth, it is our doom to age. I do not understand how you escaped this fate."
"Ilúvatar clearly recognises raw, natural beauty," Silva said with a smile.
"More likely, that old men are considered wise," said Arian. "Old women are often considered crazed."
"Beautiful, young women, on the other hand," said Riel, "get far more attention than they desire."
"Though your appearances have changed," Gandalf mumbled, as though he'd heard nothing of the previous conversation.
"They have?" Nilia said confusedly. "How?"
"You look… mortal. That's the only way I can describe it. You all have different hair." Rath and Silva looked at each other. Silva's face dropped.
"You're pretty," she stated, venomously.
"You're… different," said Rath. Silva raised her hand to her head and cried out.
"My hair!!" Her before waist-length, jet-black hair now only fell to her mid-back. "I need a mirror!" she ordered.
"There's one in that shack over there," said one of the crew from their ship that was hovering near by. Silva broke out into a run at the hut to her right. She ran in, found the bathroom and locked herself in. She cautiously crossed the room to the mirror but didn't yet look in it. She didn't want to see what would be looking back at her. 'Stop being such a coward!' she told herself. 'It's only your reflection! You have always loved it before now and nothing is going to change. And you can't look altogether that different.' She closed her eyes, positioned herself in front of the mirror and…
"I wonder what is taking her so long," said Arian. The four remaining sisters stood outside.
"She's probably admiring her new façade," said Rath, scornfully. "You know what she's like."
"But what if-" started Riel. A loud cry from the shack cut off the end of her sentence.
"Or maybe she's not."
"We should find her and make sure she's all right," Arian said nervously.
"Why?"
"She might do something she'll regret," said Riel.
"Like what?" asked Nilia.
"This is La- Silvawen," said Arian.
"She has a very strong argument," said Rath. "We should find her and quickly!"
The four made their way into the shack and eventually found the bathroom. They attempted opening the door but, as they suspected, it was locked.
"She definitely isn't pleased," said Riel.
"How do you know?" said Nilia. Riel pointed to the bottom of the door. Creeping vines were growing under the door, splitting the wood as they tried to get out, all of them a dark, sickly green that look very unnatural.
"Silva, open the door," said Riel, gently. "What's wrong?"
"I'm ugly!" came an angry exclamation, tinged with sorrow, from within.
"No you're not," said Arian. "You're very beautiful!"
"I'm uglier than her!"
"Who's her?" Riel enquired.
"Lyncorath."
"You are?" they chorused.
"Since when?" said Rath.
"Since we came ashore! You're beautiful. You're taller, your eyes could pierce souls! Your hair is like a river of silver-gold-"
"Silvawen, open the door," Rath demanded irritably. "You are being immature, unreasonable and pathetic." At that remark, the door flew open.
"How dare you call me pathetic?" she ranted. "This is a grave and serious issue. I was not created the most beautiful of us sisters for no reason!" The other four groaned. "Rath always upstages me in everything she does, but beauty was one thing I could always best her with. Now I have nothing! My most prized possession torn from my grasp!" Gandalf stood in the background, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.
"Such vanity," he muttered.
"You all know that beauty is important to me!" continued Silva. "I shan't even be cast a glance by a passing peasant now!" And she went back into the bathroom. The door shut with a slam and they heard it lock again.
"Silva, you are far more beautiful than any being in Middle Earth," said Riel. "Of course you won't be 'cast a glance', they'll be staring at you. You are beautiful!"
"But how can I get anyone's to look at me when she's around?"
"First of all, 'she' has a name," Rath growled, "secondly, I shan't be around for long so you needn't worry and thirdly, why does it matter whether or not people look at you? You don't believe in love and have made a solemn vow never to attach yourself to another."
"Attention," said Riel.
"Bless you," said Nilia.
"No, attention. That's why it matters to her. She loves being watched, knowing that people are lusting over her. She loves attracting attention. Believe what you will, but her self-confidence is very low. The attention she continually craves is a bid for more self-confidence. That's also why she's always saying she's pretty. She's merely reminding herself of her good points. She's thinks that her only quality. If you notice, she rarely ever boasts her achievements. She thinks the only reason people love her is because she's beautiful. Her deepest fear is being ugly, though it sounds vain."
"How do you know all that?" asked Arian.
"She told me."
"Silvawen told you all that?" said Rath in disbelief.
"Yes, why wouldn't she? People underestimate how close we really are. I do believe I know Silva better than she knows herself." The sisters looked utterly stunned. In order to avoid any more confusion, they returned their attentions to their confined sister.
"Silva, please come out," Arian begged, once again trying to remove her sister from the bathroom. "You are still beautiful. You couldn't ever not be beautiful. It's just a different beauty than what you're used to. When you see the mortals of this land you laugh at this little episode. No one will notice or even care that you're appearance has changed."
"But I care!" Arian was beginning to loose her patience.
"Silvawen, if you don't come out, I will be coming in to get you!"
"And just how are you going to get through a locked, solid wooden door?"
"Like this." The locked bathroom door was suddenly alight. When it had completely burned away, Nilia doused the remaining flames. Arian stepped through the hole into the jungle of a bathroom. Every wall was covered with Ivy and various other creeping vines, there were bunches of wilted flowers in the sink and wilting over the edge of the glass coverlet that held a candle in the middle of the ceiling were dead flowers.
She stood gaping in amazement for several seconds but she quickly snapped out of the trance.
"If you don't leave this building at once, I shall burn away what is left of your beloved hair!" she said, fiercely. Silva, looking petrified, bolted from the bathroom.
"Why didn't I try that in the first place?" Arian pondered, as she left the bathroom in pursuit of her reckless heart-sister.
"Silvawen, stop being so immature," said Rath. Silva was riding with her head hung, silent, pondering her fate. They were on route to Imladris, mainly for Silva's sake. They all hoped that the beauty of Imladris would make her forget any of the nonsense that was currently filling her mind and preoccupy her with thoughts of Lothlórien again.
"I'm not being immature," said Silva. "I'm just coming to terms with the matter in my own way."
"You talk as though somebody had died."
"It is a loss of my beauty."
"Silva, you're still stunningly beautiful," said Riel, in an attempt to make her feel better.
"But-"
"Silvawen, be quiet!" Arian snapped, sharply, "You are more beautiful than any inhabitant of Middle Earth. You surpass them all. Wherever you go, you will turn heads. None of those mortals at the docks could stop looking at you. So stop wallowing in self-pity, stop begging for attention and compliments and act your age!" Arian rarely lost her temper with the sisters and when she did, it was always a shock.
"Sorry, Arian," said Silva, timidly.
For a very long while there was an awkward silence. Riel found it very unnerving. She didn't like long, tense silences; they weren't healthy and only ever caused divides between people. She kept trying to think of something to say to clear the atmosphere, but nothing seemed adequate.
By the time they stopped to camp for the night, she was desperate. She had to say something, or she would lose her mind.
"So, where are we going?" she said, plucking the first question out of her head that she could think of. She instantly regretted from the sighs and grumbles that were returned.
"Air truly is your element," Nilia snarled, "it's what fills your head!" Riel hung her head in shame.
"There was no need for that!" said Silva, going over to Riel and putting an arm round her shoulder. "It is I that you are all irritated with; do not take it out on her."
"Nilia is right. She's a grown woman, yet one would think she were a child after hearing some of the nonsense that passes her lips," Rath retorted.
"Ignore her," Silva quickly advised, seeing the look on Riel's face. "She is bitter, but she doesn't mean what she says." Rath snorted, but did not respond. "We are headed to Imladris, home to Lord Elrond and his kin."
"I know, I just couldn't stand the silence anymore," Riel answered sadly. "I'm sorry. But who of us are staying in Imladris? This, I cannot remember."
"I mean to dwell in Imladris for the foreseeable future," Arian joined the conversation.
"I shall be travelling with Rath for a while," Nilia told them, "as I have yet to decide where I wish to settle."
"I'm going to Lothlórien," said Silva.
"Even Riel couldn't forget that, how frequently you remind us," said Rath.
"I do apologise for being excited."
"Excitement is one thing, but you are being plain irritating. Kindly refrain from reminding us again."
"Or else what, Rath?"
"Or I'll silence you myself." Silva laughed,
"You're just jealous."
"What?" Rath scoffed.
"You are jealous of me."
"And why would that be?"
"Because my future is determined. I have plans and ideas about my residency and life. You have nothing."
"Our duty is to protect every being in this land; I am not so foolish as to tie myself to one race or civilisation."
"This is merely further proof of your envy. You know I am right, so you lower yourself to petty insults."
"What do you have that I could possibly be jealous of?" Rath barked, maliciously. "I'm older, wiser and, Valar save me, fairer than you. I have the love of a great man and the respect of everyone, a born leader. You have nothing I could ever want. You are beneath me." Tears welled in Silva's eyes. She had never known the oldest heart-sister be so cruel to those she loved.
"Lyncorath!!!" Arian shouted. "That was completely uncalled for! Apologise this instant!"
"For what? I speak the truth," said Rath. She turned her back on her four sisters.
"Rath?" said Riel. "What's wrong with you?"
"Just leave her," said Nilia. "Let her calm her temper before anymore is said to her."
Several hours passed and Rath said nothing to them. She sat out of the firelight, glaring into the darkness. She took the first watch and continued to do so for most of the night. When she finally began to feel the heaviness of sleep bearing down on her, she woke Silva up.
"Silva, please accept my sincerest apology," she said. "I know not why I said those things. They were unforgivable. I have been struggling to deal with being parted from Metrion, but it's no excuse for what was said." Rath hung her head in shame.
"You hurt me, Rath. My own sister. You spoke to me as though I were nothing."
"I know and I only came to tell you how sorry I am." Silva stared at her sister for a moment and then wrapped her arms around her neck.
"I forgive you." They sat in an embrace for a short while. "Now, you should sleep."
They travelled on for two more weeks. Riel kept them all highly amused with tales and anecdotes of things she'd done in their homeland. Silva managed not to mention Lothlórien or her change of appearance even once, which improved the mood of all.
When they arrived in Imladris, Lord Elrond greeted them warmly.
"Welcome to Imladris, friends of old," he said. "It is long since we last met; I take great joy in welcoming you to my home."
"Hello Elrond," said Silva, cheerfully. Elrond smiled at her familiar informality. She never cared much for status and role. She liked you and, therefore, befriended you or she didn't, it was as simple as that.
"Silvawen," hissed Rath.
"What? All I said was hello."
"Must you be so informal?" Silva grinned.
"Yes."
"Lyncorath, calm yourself, it matters not," said Elrond. "We are all friends here and formalities are not necessary. Silvawen may speak with me however she wishes." Rath scowled at Silva, who grinned cheekily again.
"Please excuse them, Lord Elrond," said Arian, wearily. "They've been at each others throats since we left the Valinor. I don't know what has gotten into either of them. They seem intent on driving each other, and us all, to madness!"
"Let us hope they can find peace in my realm," said Elrond, "else, we shall just have to keep them separated."
Elrond spent the day showing them round the grounds. Silva was in awe of everything she saw. The way the Elves built around nature and became a part of it, blending in with it rather than destroying it, fascinated and delighted her. It always deeply upset her to see nature carelessly and thoughtlessly destroyed. She couldn't imagine what Lórien must be like. The land of Aman was beautiful in a way that Middle Earth could never be, but it was a different kind of beauty. That of Middle Earth was more of a real beauty.
"I think we succeeded," said Arian with a smile. Even Rath couldn't help but laugh at her sister. Happiness radiated off her. Everything around her seemed to glow with an unnatural light.
"What is that?" Nilia asked, curiously.
"Her parting gift the Lady Yavanna," said Riel. "It is so powerful that even her mood can affect her surroundings, though I think neither tutor nor pupil expected this level of skill. She was only ever meant to be able to will things to grow consciously. It would seem she can do it subconsciously."
"Well, the Elves will certainly like her," said Arian. "Anyone who affects their surroundings so shall certainly win favour with them. Here at least, anyway."
"And this is all very lovely," Rath cut in, "but I am both tired and hungry."
"Very well, Lyncorath," said Elrond, hearing her complaints. "We shall retire from this activity. The sun is almost set, you have been here many hours and still I have offered you no rest or comfort."
"It wouldn't be at all possible for me to stay out here for the rest of my stay, would it?" asked Silva, hopefully. Elrond gave her an odd look and the sisters shook their heads in disbelief. She lowered her gaze, self- consciously. "No then," she said, glumly.
"I cannot allow you to sleep in my gardens, Silvawen, it would not be hospitable of me. But you are free to wander my home as you wish, when you wish. It is your home for as long as you are here. If sleep is not your requirement, you may walk as you will." This cheered her mood again and she reluctantly followed her friends into the house.