Upon Shattered Dreams

Chapter 3- Ithilwen's Story

Celeborn turned to his wife, and his eyes were filled with worry. "Mithrandir has fallen into the clutches of Moria. What hopes has the Fellowship now of destroying the Ring?"

The Lord and Lady of Lothlórien had just met with the remainder of the Fellowship, and after sending them away to rest, Celeborn discussed the current situation with his wife. Troubled, the elf lord knew that Middle Earth was standing on the edge of doom.

Galadriel smiled sadly. "Great was the loss of the Grey Pilgrim, but hope still remains. A greater force is at play than that we know of."

Celeborn frowned. "You speak of the Siladhiel."

Galadriel nodded. "Of course."

Celeborn's grimace deepened. He knew of his wife's wisdom, yet he could not understand why Galadriel was so fixated with this Siladhiel, literally, the Shining One. Prophecies, according to Celeborn's knowledge, could be complex and often, unreliable and unpredictable.

As if reading his thoughts, Galadriel said, "Do you doubt the knowledge and wisdom of those before us?"

Stunned by the intensity of her words, Celeborn replied, "No… But this prophecy has been passed down through the ages for countless generations, but never come to pass. How is it that you are sure that she is the one?"

"She bears all the signs."

"But if we are mistaken? Prophecies are known to be-"

"-unpredictable? Yes. But can you not feel the power that radiates off her?"

Celeborn nodded his head, admitting that Galadriel's words were true. "I have not known such power ever before."

"Power," whispered Galadriel, "That can match Sauron."

"What do you plan for her?" asked Celeborn.

Galadriel hesitated. "I'm not sure," she finally answered, "Perhaps it is best to just watch, and be silent. After all, we do not know how the prophecy will come to play, and perhaps foreknowledge would only hinder it."

Celeborn nodded. "She certainly has captured the heart of our people…"

Galadriel smiled somewhat wryly. "Not least the heart of our March Warden," she reflected, "Haldir has never been one to show much emotion, yet he can't seem to help himself whenever she is around."

Celeborn's brows furrowed to a frown. "Is that wise, given her destiny?"

Galadriel sighed. "We cannot live constantly thinking about how our choices now will affect the future, for such thinking could drive one mad. Better to act as we do, and let the fate come to us, for it is a ruthless tyranny, and not a force known to forgive its victims. "

Legolas treaded through the woods slowly, breathing in the scent of blooming flowers, and feeling some of his previous weariness and grief wash out of him. He had heard many tales of Lothlórien in his homeland, and had always wanted to experience the woods' beauty firsthand ever since a young elfling. Yet he had never imagined that he would come under such conditions…

Thump.

Legolas's head snapped up to see a flash of white fall before him and hit the ground. A girl clad in white had fallen down from a tree top. Legolas had been so rapt in his thoughts that he had failed to pick up the presence of another around him until now. He rushed over to help the young elleth up.

Taking his hand, she straightened up and shook her head slightly-

"It is you!" cried Legolas. His face turned amused. "That is twice that you have fallen before me." For standing in front of him was indeed the young girl that he had encountered at Rivendell. Only Legolas realized now that he was wrong in his judgment of her age, for now she seemed much older.

She smiled at him brightly. "I remember you," she recalled.

Legolas restrained a surprised gasp. "You can speak now," he said, almost accusingly.

"It healed," she told him. "I am Ithilwen."

Despite all his coolness, Legolas could not hide his shock for the second time. "You were the one singing at Nimrodel!"

Ithilwen frowned, but her face suddenly lightened as she came to a conclusion. "And you were the one that sang after me. I did not imagine it would be you," she said, smiling. "And sir, I still do not know your name, though you know mine."

"Legolas."

"Legolas," she tasted the name slowly. "So Legolas-chan, what brings you to the eaves of the Golden Wood?"

Her question made Legolas hesitate slightly. What to answer- Sauron? The Fellowship? The ring? None of those answers would mean anything to the girl in front of him and none of them seemed right. "Duty," he finally settled on, "Matters which shouldn't be discussed openly in such places," he added in case Ithilwen should question further.

She nodded knowingly at him.

"Perhaps you should tell me your story," Legolas suggested.

Ithilwen smiled, and sat down against the stump of the large oak tree she fell out of. She patted a space on the ground next to her, a sign which Legolas took as for him to sit there. He did so without a complaint, and watched her expectantly.

"I'm not sure where to begin," she said.

"Start with who you are," Legolas answered.

"That's the problem, you see," she replied, "I don't know who I am."

Legolas frowned. "Then how do you know your name is Ithilwen?"

"My name isn't Ithilwen," she said firmly and then seeing his puzzled look added, "Well it is. But it really isn't. Argh! It's the name the Lady gave me. I don't know who I am, where I come from, or why I was at Rivendell. All I know is that I woke up with a really bad headache in the middle of a beautiful forest. And then, I heard the sound of footsteps, and I got scared so I climbed onto the trees. And then you shot that arrow, which made me fall down. And then, I found out I couldn't speak. Is this making any sense?"

"Sort of," Legolas said. "Don't use so many 'and thens'."

She smiled sheepishly. "After I ran away from you, a kind elf lady found me, so I stayed with her. That day I was playing a chase game with her two children and we stumbled upon that meeting you were all holding. I ran away again, but then Arwen-sister found me."

"Arwen?"

Ithilwen nodded. "She coaxed me to follow her, and took me to Lord Elrond. I must've stayed at Rivendell for," she paused and counted on her fingers, "Five days. Lord Elrond healed my voice, but he couldn't make out why exactly it failed in the first place. He sent me here hoping the Lady would know who I am, and help me remember."

"But you still don't know?"

"The Lady said that she did not know, but she let me live here. I love Lothlórien," she sighed happily. "I don't mind not knowing who I am, quite honestly. It is frustrating sometimes, not knowing who you are and where you come from, but I got used to it. Besides, what better home than here?"

For someone who had been mute, she was certainly talking a lot, Legolas mused. "Why are you called Ithilwen, then?"

"The Lady named me. She said 'Ithil' meant moon, and because I kept staring at the moon, she thought it fitted me. So that's how I've become known as Ithilwen around here."

"Can you speak Elvish?"

"Some," she said shyly. "I've had to learn, because most elves here do not speak the Common Tongue. It is a beautiful language, so much more graceful than the awkward speech that we are using right now."

"Anyway," she said, changing the topic. "I saw your company walk through Lothlórien. There were hobbits!" she cried out in delight, "They were even cuter than I imagined. They're like little children, yet, I think there's more to them than meets the eye."

Legolas noted absently that that was precisely what Gandalf had told the council.

"And the dwarf!" Ithilwen continued breathlessly, "I didn't get a good view of him, but I saw his huge beard! I wish I could've seen you all better, but it was all formality-formality, so I wasn't allowed. I snuck in between the crowds." She giggled slightly. "I've never seen such a strange company before." She frowned. "I heard the Lady and Lord speak of 'the nine', but I only saw eight. Did I miss someone, perhaps another hobbit?"

"Nay, my lady," Legolas replied solemnly, "You have not, though I wish it was so. One of our company fell into shadow- our wise guide, Gandalf the White."

Ithilwen gasped in shock. "Mithrandir!"

"You know the Grey Pilgrim?"

"I know of him," Ithilwen corrected. "I have heard many tales of him from the Silvan Elves. I longed to meet him, but…" Ithilwen sighed. "What great evil could've overcome the Grey Pilgrim?"

"It was a great evil from the past- a demon of shadow and flame. The dwarves summoned it from delving too deeply into the ground, and it caused their destruction- the balrog."

Ithilwen stared at him in disbelief. "I thought they only existed within tales!"

"I'm afraid not."

Ithilwen tilted her head downwards sullenly. "I see now that perhaps Haldir was right in saying that there were evils which I cannot imagine. Yet it is difficult to think of evil things, when you are in such a fair place as Lothlórien."

"I believe that the March Warden is right. There are evils in this world which cannot be described by words alone," Legolas sighed, surprised at the turn of the conversation. Seeing the sad expression Ithilwen wore on her face, he changed the topic. "How did you come to know Haldir, for you seem particularly fond of him?"

Ithilwen smiled. "Haldir is like a big brother to me. He taught me how to fight, to shoot with a perfect aim, and how to use a sword. I miss him now that he is on duty, for I rarely seem him now." She sighed. "That was why I ran to the outer borders the other day, though I am not allowed. It is deemed unsafe. Yet I do not understand, if Haldir and his troops are allowed there, why am I not?"

"They are the protectors of Lothlórien. It is their duty," Legolas replied calmly.

"If they can risk their lives, then why can't I?" Ithilwen puffed indignantly. "After all, Lothlórien is my home too, and I would give anything to protect it."

"And I would not doubt it. But here I must agree with the March Warden- it is far too dangerous for you." And seeing her open her mouth to protest, Legolas spoke on. "Despite what you say about your skills, it is still too risky for you. Sometimes a battle is not decided on skill alone…"

"Still," Ithilwen sighed, defeated, "I do not like the feeling of staying back whilst others put their lives at risk. I am not one to sit and watch others fight. I'd rather be one of them."

Legolas smiled a rare smile. "Nor do you look the type," he said, amused. "You are certainly one with spirit- and a bright burning one, for that matter." He stood up, and offered her a hand. She gazed at him quizzically.

"Shall I take that as a compliment?" she asked, taking his hand and straightened herself."

"It is."

Ithilwen dusted herself gingerly. "Will you introduce me to the rest of your company?" she asked. "I would really like to meet the hobbits."

"Sure. And I'm sure they're just as eager to meet you, after hearing you at Nimrodel."

"It was you!" Pippin squeaked breathlessly.

Ithilwen smiled, taking an instant liking to the young excitable hobbit. "It was me indeed," she laughed, "What, may I ask, is your name, master hobbit?"

Pippin flushed so Merry answered for his friend. "His name is Peregrin Took, but we all call him Pippin. I'm Meriadoc Brandybuck, but call me Merry. They," he said, pointing to two other hobbits sitting behind them, "are our friends, Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee."

Ithilwen repeated the names silently to herself. She kneeled down onto the ground so she was at eye level with the hobbits. "Hallo," she greeted them in her usual friendly manner, giving them a bright smile. "Pleased to meet you all. I am Ithilwen."

"That's an elvish name," Frodo commented, straightening up and walking towards her, "Yet you are no elf."

"I'm not," Ithilwen agreed, "It is the name the Lady gave me. You are Frodo."

He nodded, and bowed to her. When he rose, their gazes locked. Ithilwen could not miss the pain in those beautiful cobalt eyes that mirrored hers. They were filled with terror and fear, they stung with corruption, and shadow crept over it still… Something burdens this small hobbit, yet she could not imagine what.

Ithilwen turned to the sound of shuffling footsteps to see a figure of similar height to the hobbits approach her. Yet this creature was no hobbit. He, at least she thought it was a he, was of a much sturdier build, and the long messy beard was an unmistakable sign that he was a-

"Dwarf!" she exclaimed excitedly, rushing towards him.

Gimli looked somewhat stunned, but let out a hearty laugh. "'Aye lass. I understand you have never seen one of my kinds before, then?"

Ithilwen blushed. "I apologize for my rudeness, master dwarf," she said humbly.

"It is no matter," Gimli said, waving the matter aside.

"And this is Boromir." Legolas, who was standing behind her, introduced her to the Gondor man. Boromir bowed to her honorably, and she returned his greetings with equal reverence, feeling odd at the man's stiff formality.

Ithilwen looked, and saw that behind Boromir stood a taller man with shaggy hair and dark deep eyes. "This is Aragorn," Legolas told her.

Ithilwen gasped. "You are Estel!"

Aragorn gave her a bow, and asked, "I ask, Lady, how you come to know that name?"

Ithilwen smiled. "I heard about you from Arwen-sister."

Aragorn's expression changed at the mention of Arwen's name. "How is Lady Arwen?" he asked Ithilwen.

"She is well," she told him brightly. "I have heard much about you, Estel-chan. Lady Arwen spoke to me many a times about your story."

"She… she did?"

Ithilwen nodded enthusiastically. "She spoke fondly of you," Ithilwen answered. She would've said something else, but something in Aragorn's face stopped me. She stammered to silence.

Pippin seized this moment of stillness. "Sing for us!" he begged.

Ithilwen smiled at the young hobbit, and whatever was troubling her flew from her mind.

A/N: I am VERY sorry for the slow update! I'm NOT abandoning this story. I shall continue it. Read, think, review! Many thanks. - Amy