Chapter Eight: The Message of Galadriel

'G-d forbid you ever have to walk a mile in her shoes, then you really might know what it's like to have to choose…'

-'What it's like' –Everlast

The messengers had returned just before dark with word from the Lady Galadriel. The prisoners were to be freed and brought to the city as guests. Haldir and his brothers quickly removed the ropes from the Company, apologizing profusely for their rash actions.

"None are needed," said Aragorn, "you were doing your duty, and I would do the same in your place." Haldir smiled and grasped the ranger's shoulder in friendship. The gesture was returned in kind.

"The Lady is wise to trust you," he said, releasing him and signaling to the scouts that they were to move on. Aragorn heard the hobbits chattering amongst themselves, as well as Gimli's constant grumbling following behind. Boromir was quiet, and hung to the back of the group. "You have her favor, you know," Haldir continued. "The messengers say she became quite cross when she heard you had been captured. It is as though your arrival was expected." Aragorn nodded.

"That may be so," he said. "We set out from Imladris, sent by the Lord Elrond. It is possible he sent word ahead of us."

"I see. And what is it you were sent out to do?" Aragorn stopped when he heard this, his face serious.

"I am afraid I cannot tell you that, mellon." Haldir nodded.

"I understand," he replied gravely. "In these dark times, many things must be kept secret, even among allies. Although, had the Lady not given you her favor, I would have been inclined to probe further. One can never be too careful, though I do sense a great unease about your errand."

"It is well that your realm is guarded so vigilantly," said Aragorn, "but I beg you, let us not speak more of our…errand." The Company walked further on in silence, quietly remarking among themselves on the beauty of the forest around them, now that they were free to enjoy it.

Frodo stayed quiet and kept close to Sam as they traveled. At first he was caught up in the beauty of their surroundings as they all were, but the deeper into the woods they went, the more his unease grew. It was as if he knew somehow that every step brought him nearer to some difficult test that was to come. As he looked around, he saw that none of the others seemed to feel as he did, and so he tried to relax. Aragorn was with him; he would protect him from anything.

They walked for some time through the Golden Wood, the trees growing taller and thicker as they went on. Merry and Pippin at first tried to amuse themselves by counting all the trees they passed. Each time they came within arm's length, they would touch the smooth bark and shout out a number. Finally after nearly an hour of this, Gimli had had enough.

"Confound your blasted counting!" he cried in frustration. Both hobbits cried out and complained to the dwarf that they were only having fun.

"We've been walking for hours," Merry exclaimed, "we're getting bored!"

"Never mind him, Merry, let's keep going. What number were we at?" Gimli felt a grin spread on his face in satisfaction as the two tried to remember their count.

"Now we'll have to start all over!" Pippin wailed. One of the elves walking nearest the trio leaned over to him.

"Five hundred and sixty-eight," he said in heavily accented Common. "Your total was Five hundred and forty-three, but you missed several while distracted by the dwarf."

"You were counting too?" Pippin asked in amazement.

"Of course!" said another elf, walking nearest Merry. "Ciran and I have spent many long hours on guard duty and must find some way to pass the time. Still, it is quite an old game."

"Yes," Ciran continued, "there are only so many times one can count all the trees in the forest without succumbing to boredom."

"All the trees in the forest?" Pippin repeated in wonder. Ciran and his friend smiled at each other.

"We are quite long lived, young hobbit."

It was after sundown in the mystical twilight most beloved of the elves that they arrived in the glowing city in the heart of the forest. Haldir guided the group around the strong outer wall to the front gate of the city, guarded by elves in full armor. The hobbits stared at them with wide eyes as they passed, for never had they seen such a sight before.

As they entered the city, the entire fellowship was struck with quiet awe as they got their first glimpse of Lothlorien the fair. They were among the largest and tallest trees in the forest, home to hundreds of elves. Haldir led them through the city to the largest tree any of them had ever seen.

The staircase that was carved into the side of the living tree, was guarded at its base by more armored elves. Haldir approached them, and the others watched as they greeted each other and spoke in low tones for a few moments. Then one of the guards raised a silver horn and blew one clear note upon it. Seconds later, the tone was answered by another from high up in the tree. Haldir turned back to the others.

"It is true, you have been expected," he said, focusing on Aragorn, then Frodo. "The Lord and Lady await you above." He then climbed the first few steps and looked back for the others to follow. Frodo went first, followed by Sam, keeping close to his master, who in turn was staying near to the elf in front of him. Aragorn and the others followed at their own pace, but stopped several times along the almost never-ending stair to rest, while Frodo and Sam pressed on.

Frodo saw, as they climbed higher and his mind began to wander, that the stairs themselves seemed to glow with their own inner light, the same way he noticed Laileth and the other elves he'd met do. The light around them from the lamp Haldir carried, and even from Haldir himself, was a soft and soothing glow. He felt himself begin to relax more and more with each step, even though his doubts and anxieties about this place remained. By the time he reached the top and climbed through the hole in the floor of the flet he felt almost completely at ease.

After helping a puffing Sam up the last few steps, he stood and looked around in amazement. They were inside a grand house, if it could be called that. The only roof Frodo could see was the green leaves of the mellyrn, with the occasional star poking through from the sky above. The walls were a soft and almost glowing grey, the same as the trunk of the great tree that plunged out through the floor and continued on up through the leaf ceiling. Frodo's eyes were then drawn ahead towards the glowing figures of two elves who seemed to have been waiting for them. Haldir stepped in front of the two hobbits and bowed low to the other elves.

"May I present Frodo and Sam, two of the four peredhil traveling with the Company from Imladris." The hobbits bowed reverently and the Lord and Lady smiled as if to young children.

"Rise, please," Haldir said softly. "This is Celeborn and Galadriel, the Lord and Lady of Lorien."

"Welcome, Ringbearer," the melodic voice of the Lady Galadriel floated as velvet toward the hobbits. Sam turned to Frodo in surprise, but his master didn't seem concerned; indeed, he hardly even seemed to have heard at all by the dreamy look in his eyes. He was about to speak to 'wake him up', when the sounds of the fellowship clambering up through the floor distracted him.

After that, Sam was lost in a sea of words. Many things were said – about the Fellowship, the quest, the Ring, Sauron, and Gandalf. Sam listened to the words, but what he listened to mostly was the sound of the Elves' voices. He had always wanted to meet elves, ever since he was a lad. Even when he met with Gildor and the wood elves, and then later Elrond and the elves of Rivendel, still he felt as if he had yet to 'meet' elves. Now, finally, he understood. What he had really been waiting for was to meet Galadriel.

"And what of Laileth?" Aragorn finally asked, once all the pleasantries were dealt with. There was a brief silence, and Galadriel and Celeborn shared a look between them.

"She is resting," Celeborn answered. "She was grievously wounded, and our healers worked on her for some time to repair the damage."

"She'll be alright, won't she?" asked Pippin. Merry elbowed him in warning, but Celeborn nodded to him and answered.

"Yes, she will heal. She has asked for you, Aragorn. When we finish here, Haldir will lead you to her room."

"Does she know yet about Mirkwood?" Aragorn asked, his eyes never leaving Celeborn's. The elf met his gaze.

"Yes."

She had watched as the Fellowship were escorted into the city, and watched as they met with the Lord and Lady. Now that they had left, she just watched. The whole city thrummed with life, the sounds of voices, rustling trees and birdcalls all flowed together in a soft symphony below her. Her thoughts were far from here, however, and the music of nature was merely a backdrop of white noise for her inner thoughts.

'I apologize, Laileth,' she had said, 'we have news from Lasgalen. I'm afraid it is not pleasant.'

She closed her eyes, as if the motion could banish the memory. How painful the news had been, while she was still recovering from her physical wounds! Ever since she had received the news, it was as if her spirit had left her body, and now there was naught but a corpse left where once she lived. How could she go on, knowing what might, nay was happening in her home? To her people, her family? How could she go on, knowing that her hosts not only know about what is happening, but have done nothing to help? How could she?

Behind her, she heard the groan of weight on the rope ladder leading up to her talon. She did not turn, for she was numb to all feelings, good or ill. She simply took note of the sound and continued her surveillance of the city below her, dead eyes scanning what could never be hers. She barely even flinched when a hand rested lightly on her shoulder, or even when that hand gently turned her body so that she faced her visitor. She showed no resistance when he wrapped his arms around her and guided her head to rest on his strong shoulder, but she did not return the gesture all the same.

"Laileth, I am so sosrry," he whispered. She knew she should cry, that it was what was expected of her. Cry for her imperiled city, her brother, her friends. She just could not – she had no tears left. Her eyes stung all the same, and when Aragorn raised her head to look at her, he found her eye red with grief. "What can I do?" he asked.

'Oh how little he knows what he asks,' she thought. 'I would have many things, but you could not give them! I would have you comfort me in a way you could not, or bring my father and brother back to me, or make whole my beloved city. I would have all these things, but they are not mine for the asking. Why would you simplify my wants in this way, when nothing with me is simple?' She wished she could say these things to him, ached to say them, but knew she couldn't. She loved him as a friend, even as kin. She could never say anything to harm that friendship. So instead, she turned away.

"Nothing," she whispered, "there is nothing you can do." She walked the few paces to the edge of her talon and looked down, again letting the steady murmur of life soothe her, if only briefly. And then, as if lightening had struck, she looked up. "No, there is something," she whispered, loud enough for one acustomed to living with elves to hear.

"Anything, mellon," he answered. She turned to face him, and it was the hardest movement she had ever made. She lifted her eyes to his and made her request.

"Please let me go."