I do not own Lord of the Rings, nor the characters or places. Only Mÿne is mine.


The fellowship hurried out of the lands of Moria, and were setting out to reach the woods. Boromir was getting more agitated every minute. Mÿne could tell how he snarled at them. How he shot them looks. He didn't want to talk anymore, not about the quest, not even about his city or people. Mÿne tried not to be bothered by it, but she noticed how angry Boromir could look at Aragorn. '

The fellowship followed him over the muddy plains, trudging their feet. After the battle they fought at the halls of Moria, the members of the fellowship were exhausted and they weren't anywhere near the outskirts of the forest of Lórien yet. Mÿne decided to keep an eye out for Boromir, for he was often looking at Frodo. Mÿne noticed the mysterious glance in his eyes and she knew she had to be careful. The Ring had already swept him under its will. On the top of a hill they stopped. A big lake was spread in front of them. It's colour was a smooth grey, mirroring the sky above them. A small breeze swept against their faces. In the far distant, beyond the lake they saw the edge of a forest.

They descended the hill and walked forward, between high walls of stone. Little peaks of grass started to appear among the stones. They passed the lake on their left side. Its surface was still and calm, untouched by the wind.

"What is it called?" Sam asked, pointing at the lake.

"Mirrormere." Mÿne said, watching the grey clouds in its reflection, "It is said that the dwarf king Dúrin came across this lake, long ago." she continued, turning around and looking at the mountains they just came from.

"He stopped by and looked into the water. In his reflection he saw a crown with stars above them. Then he founded Moria." Gimli chimed in, and he took a glance at himself in the grey waters. Frodo and Sam stood next to him, bowing their heads and watching their counterparts in the grey mass. Hollow expressions were looking back at them. But no stars, and no crown appeared above their own heads.

They straightened back up and continued walking on the road.

Trees came closer as they passed the Mirrormere. The sun was already setting behind the fellowship, giving the trees a golden glow. Their leaves were falling, promising the coming of another season.

They stepped silently on the road before them. Immediately it seemed to Mÿne that slow whispers were surrounding them, like they were being watched by someone they could not see.

Gimli started to tell a story about an Elven witch that lived in these woods. In Mÿne's head an image of Galadriel flew by. She had been to Lórien before, but it was for a short time. Galadriel had come to greet her and Aragorn, who Galadriel seemed to know well. She had taken Mÿne to her 'mirror' and allowed her to look. Mÿne remembered it clearly.


"Will you take a look at my mirror?" Galadriel asked her, when Aragorn marched off with Lord Celeborn to discuss some urgent matters.

A nine-year old Mÿne looked at the friendly face of the Lady of Light.

"If I look, what will I see?" she asked.

Galadriel offered her hand to the little girl, a mysterious smile on her face. Mÿne grabbed took Galadriel's hand and together they walked towards some stairs that led down to an empty clearing, let alone for a silver bowl on a pedestal.

"You can see many things in the mirror. The past, the present.. and sometimes events that have not yet come to pass." Galadriel said as she helped Mÿne from the last steps of the stairs.

"Really?" she asked, blinking at her.

Galadriel nodded her beautiful head and led Mÿne to the decorated stone bowl. Mÿne stood on the steps and clenched her little hands around the edge of the bowl, peering over it with her big eyes. Galadriel poured water into the bowl and remained silent. When she was finished and all the sounds of the pouring water had vanished she waited, watching Mÿne.

Mÿne had to stand on her toes to look into the bowl. Her reflection was staring back at her. Slowly it started to fade and an image appeared of a bright orange colour. Mÿne watched as trees were on fire. Flames licked on their trunks, branches were being charred black. Twigs fell down into the sea of orange. Mÿne could actually feel the heat coming of the bowl. Between the flames she could see small houses, also on fire. People were running from it. Screaming, struggling, crying. Mÿne watched with watery eyes as dark figures came out of the flames. They raised their swords and slaughtered the people. They stabbed them, sliced them in half. Dark liquid flew into the air, splattered on the burned grass and dripped from their blades. The dark figures were making horrifying sounds as they ran further.

Mÿne stumbled backwards, scared. She trembled all over and did not dare to look at the bowl again. Ever.

Aragorn had told her she'd seen her own village. Burned down and killed. Mÿne tugged her curly hair behind her ears and focussed her green eyes on the road in front of them. She was being pulled out of her thoughts when she was staring at an arrow in front of her. She tried to reach for her sword.

"I would stop that, if I were you. You will be shot before you could even touch it." someone told her.

She looked up and stared in the face of a blond elf. His expression was dark and Mÿne could tell he was being serious. She raised her hands, locking her eyes with the elf in front of her.

Their leader appeared, a handsome elf with the same dark expression. He looked at the fellowship and his eyes rested on Frodo.

"You will come with me." he said to them, gesturing to his elves to take the fellowship with them.


Night crept into the forest. Trees became dark and sinister. Little blue lights were enlightened by a few elves to reduce the darkness. They walked a short distance, where they were taken to a platform high into the trees. From there they could watch the road beneath them. More platforms came into view, with more elves on it. All of them carrying bows and arrows.

The fellowship was halted on the platform with the leader of the elves, the one from before. Boromir shifted his eyes between the several elves. Merry and Pippin were looking uncertain over the edge of the platform, Sam was staring down some elves, as if to dare to touch Frodo. Mÿne watched the leader as he talked to Aragorn and Legolas in Elvish.

"So much for the legendary courtesy of the elves. Speak a language we can all understand!" Gimli growled irritated. The leader turned to him, his face unreadable but his voice was low and annoyed.

"We have not had dealings with the Dwarfs since the Dark Days..." he said.

"And you know what this dwarf says to that?" Gimli said as he crossed his arms.

Words followed that Mÿne could not understand. She doubted if she wanted to, because Aragorn was pretty mad. He grabbed Gimli by his collar and scolded him.

A silence fell. The leader-elf looked at everyone at them. His gaze locked onto Frodo again.

"You bring great evil with you..." and he turned to look at Aragorn. "You can go no further."

Mÿne's heart fell. That meant they were either stuck here, or had to turn back. The latter was no option, nor was stopping here. Soon, Aragorn started to argue with the elf, in hushed yet powerful words. He was trying to persuade him to let them pass. The leader, however, wasn't planning on doing so.

Mÿne sighed as she pulled out her pipe from her bag. She stuffed it with leaves and lit it. In her head she started to run through their options, while blowing smoke from her lips. She didn't notice Legolas standing next to her.

"Have you been here before?" he asked her, while he looked at the elves on the platforms beneath them. Mÿne pulled her attention back to the reality.

"Yes. When I was little. It was a short visit though." she said. Legolas nodded.

"It is so different from Mirkwood." he mumbled, taking in their surroundings in the dark.

"What's Mirkwood like?" Mÿne asked, looking at his focused blue eyes. A shimmer of remembrance appeared on them.

"It is nothing like it used to be. A shadow has fallen on it. We were driven from our homes, and forced to take shelter at the deepest depths of the forest." he said.

"That is horrible... I'm sorry to hear that." Mÿne said, looking at him once more.

They grew silent after that. Legolas seemed to be deep in thought. Behind them Aragorn and the elven leader returned.

"You will follow me, I will be your guide through these woods. My name is Haldir." the elf said. He gestured to the platform around him. "For the remains of the night we will rest, for creatures of the shadow are awake and vigilant at night."


They set up a small camp with a small fire. The fellowship was gathered around it, warming themselves silently. Mÿne stood on the edge of the platform, looking at the road beneath them. She stretched herself and felt more at ease now that they were granted passage through the woods. She lit her pipe again and bit on the small wooden end. In her mind she pictured a map of Middle Earth. What were they supposed to do after Lórien? They could try to cross the river Anduin to the Brown lands. Eventually they could possible even make it to Northern Ithiliën. It would take them closer to Mordor though... Would they get past unscathed?

"You seem deep in thought." Boromir said as he stood next to her. Mÿne glanced his way, biting on the end of her pipe again.

"Tell me your concern." he said, looking at her.

"I was thinking about the road." she said, lighting her extinguished pipe again. She blew out clouds of smoke that travelled high above their heads. Boromir nodded understandingly.

"So what do you think?" he said, crossing her arms.

"I was thinking about crossing the Anduin after we leave this forest. From there we could travel along that river into the Brown Lands. We should regain our strength in Northern Ithiliën."

"The Brown Lands are going to be difficult. Most of it is a marsh, and we will be slow. The hobbits will have to struggle greatly if they want to cross it. And if the dark forces haven't taken it already, they will soon. And with bad luck, we will be right in the middle of their fight. We've lost Gandalf already. We cannot afford to lose another life." he said, frowning.

Mÿne sighed, squatting down on the edge of the platform. She had thought of that. It was risky, but there wasn't any other logical option left. Rohan would bring them too close to Isengard. Going back and around wasn't possible any more. Crossing the river Anduin seemed to be the only way.

"Then, what do you suggest?" she asked as she looked up from the road and watched his frowned face.

"I agree that we need to cross the river. But instead of the Brown Lands and Emyn Muil we should cross to the opposite side, to East-Emnet. We should make for Cair Andros in Gondor. It will be much easier to go to Mordor from there."

"Cair Andros is no option. It's too close to Mordor. If Sauron knows we would bring the Ring so close, he will unleash an all-out attack on Gondor. We cannot risk that."

A silence fell. Uncomfortable they thought about what road was the most safest. But no other option came into mind and so they stared into the distant.

"Destroying the Ring is not an easy task." Boromir then muttered with a low voice. "It is a shame we cannot wield it..."

Mÿne looked at him. The same mysterious glance hung over his eyes. His brows were still knitted in a frown. He looked like he was thinking about another possibility.

"We have talked about this at the council, Boromir." Mÿne whispered agitated as she recognised his gaze.

She looked back to see if someone was listening but the fellowship seemed to be occupied with their own stories.

"None of us has the power to put the Ring to their will. The Ring has only but one will, to return to Sauron, it's master. The Ring is all together evil. Destroying it would be the best for all of us. For all of Middle-Earth" Mÿne said, her voice low.

She wanted to close the subject. Boromir was making her doubting the purpose of their journey. Hadn't she also thought about this? Hadn't she also been tempted by the Ring? Bringing up this subject made her feel uneasy. Images started to flash before her eyes. The smooth golden Ring, weighing heavy on her hand. It's slow whispers stroking her ear and -

"But still... Didn't you wish you had it's power? How do we know we do not posses the strength to oppose the Ring?" he asked.

Mÿne jumped up a little. Wind stroke her cheeks and she felt lie she had fallen asleep. Now, looking at the blue lights around them, wind blowing through the tops of the trees, she felt like she was woken up by a gulf of cold water. Boromir sat down next to her, leaning back on his elbows.

"Isildur is our living proof. He couldn't handle the Ring. Men are too weak for it." Mÿne said, putting her hand on his shoulder. She stood up and extinguished her pipe.

"Boromir, do yourself a favour and stop thinking about the Ring. It makes you lose sight of what's easy and what's right..." she said as she released her hand from his shoulder.

She returned to the group around the fire. While she ate a piece of dried meat she took a glance behind her, to Boromir. He still seemed to be lost in thoughts, sitting at the edge of the platform.


The next morning they were woken by the elves. They grabbed their belongings and set out to cross the woods.

"We will go to Caras Galadhon," Haldir explained them while walking on the road of golden leaves again. "From there you can get advise and remaster your strength. You will need that after your loss at Moria. Cursed be the demon that took Mithrandir into the deepest of the dark depths."

The fellowship didn't look at eachother. The pain of losing Gandalf was still there. It was too hard to talk or even think about it. And so they kept walking on the golden path what seemed like hours.

At the top of a small hill they stopped. Haldir smiled as he pointed to the group of trees in front of them. They were higher than the rest and seemed to glow with a dark golden light. From what Mÿne could guess, it would take half a day to get there.

"Caras Galadhon, the heart of elven reign on earth." Haldir said, "Home of Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, lady of Light."

He led them through paths that they did not recognise as such. They stumbled over hilltops, under high trees and grassy plains. When they came upon a dry path again they were being watched by more elves. The blue cloaked figures were holding up bows, nodded to Haldir and continued watching the road.

They crossed a bridge over a fast running river. The wood made loud noises under their footsteps. The trees that seemed big in the distant were enormous up close. Their trunks were about the size of five cavetrolls. The tops of the trees weren't even in sight. Long spiral stairs curled around the trunks. Light of the late afternoon sun made the trees glow a golden light they had seen in the distant. It seemed to come from the trees themselves.

Haldir led them on a spiral staircase on their right. Behind her, Mÿne could hear Sam wincing. It seemed he had already reached his limit. Darkness was settling around them. Soft little blue lights were being lit, spreading a smooth magical glow on the stairs. The hobbits were pointing at the several interesting objects, but all Mÿne could think was where they were going. Elves on other platforms pointed at them, whispering softly.

Haldir led them to a platform, more decorated than his own in the woods. Elves were guarding the white curly stairs up to the front of a huge porch. Haldir stepped aside and the fellowship huddled together. A bright white light shone from the top of the steps, descending down. Mÿne had to squeeze her eyes to protect herself from being blinded and when the light had reached the end of the stairs, it faded. Two beautiful elves appeared. Their robes were long, she wore a bright white one and he a slight glowing grey. Their long hair waved around their shoulders. With haughty and worried looks they gazed at the dirty and muddy fellowship in front of them. Mÿne actually felt like she hadn't bathed in weeks. Compared to the elves in front of them she felt like a filthy peasant. She quickly glanced at the others. They all looked like peasants. Even the guarding elves around them seemed to look less pretty compared to the couple in front of them.

"The enemy know you have entered here." the man spoke, his voice sounded beautiful and strong. "What hope you had in secrecy is now gone. Nine are here, yet ten were sent out from Rivendell. Tell me where is Gandalf? For I desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar."

The fellowship shifted their feet in silent. An air of sadness came down upon them. They glanced at each other. Frodo even had to swallow away his tears. Eventually the beautiful Galadriel spoke for them.

"Gandalf the Grey has not passed the border of the land." she said, shock and sadness was obvious in her voice, as if she couldn't believe it, though she had already guessed it herself. "He has fallen into shadow."

The fellowship nodded silently, swallowing away their sadness and tears. Only Legolas seemed to be the only one who could talk without cracking his voice.

"He has been taken by both shadow and flames." he said, looking at Galadriel. "A Balrog of Morgoth. For we went needlessly into the net of Moria."

Next to her, Mÿne felt Gimli bowing his head, ashamed. She put his hand on his shoulder, and wanted to say it was not his fault. For a moment she wanted to shot Legolas a look of annoyance and anger, but Galadriel seemed to do it for her.

"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not yet know his full purpose." her eyes rested on Gimli, who grunted softly, "Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-Dum fill your heart, Gimli son of Gloín. For the world has grown full of pain."

Gimli raised his head to look at her, tiny little tears in his eyes.

"And in all lands, love is now mingled with grief." Galadriel turned her head to look at Boromir this time, who seemed terrified. He avoided eye contact with Galadriel and stared at the ground. Sweat droppled over his face, or were those tears? His breath was shaky, just as his limbs. Mÿne worried about him.

"What now becomes of this Fellowship?" Celeborn continued, he looked at the broken and worn out members before him. "Without Gandalf, hope is lost."

Mÿne found it a cruel way to express their loss. But, however harsh it was, it was true. Even now she could see cracks in the promise they'd made each other. Mÿne experienced Boromir as a growing threat, scared of the future and the continuing of this journey. The hobbits seemed to have lost faith, now that Gandalf was gone. Even Mÿne was doubting the possibilities they had left. Next to her she saw Aragorn bow his head in understanding of Celeborn's words.

"The quest stands on the edge of a knife..." Galadriel said, taking in their features and locking eyes with some of them. "Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all."

The fellowship looked at each other, alarmed by her words.

"Yet, hope remains..." she continued, cracking a small smile, "...while the company is true. Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight, you will sleep in peace." she assured them.

They thanked Galadriel and Celeborn and were ushered away by Haldir, who led them back to the big stairs. They descended them in silence, all thinking about Galadriel's words.


Back on the grounds Haldir appointed them an encampment that was set up on a clearing near a huge tree. Comfortable looking mattresses were laid under white tents. A small basin with water was placed in the middle of the clearing. Little candles were lit, providing an mysterious glow around the tents.

"This will be your encampment for as long as you intend to stay. You can wash yourself at the pond beyond those trees. The elves have provided you with clean clothes. Albeit too large for some of your companions...May you find your rest after these horrid days and loss." Haldir said, bowing slightly.

They thanked him and watched as he walked away between the big trees. With a sigh Mÿne dropped her bag onto the nearest mattress. She put her hand on her thighs as she looked around. She glanced back at the rest of the members who were unpacking. The hobbits were the first to pick up their clothes and to disappear between the trees to the pond.

"Those were some dark words Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel spoke." Mÿne said as Legolas stood next to her. He too was observing their beautiful surroundings.

"Yes. But they would not have spoken them if they weren't necessary..." Legolas muttered softly. "I think they speak the truth. Ever since Gandalf's gone..." he didn't finish his sentence and he didn't need to. Mÿne knew exactly what he meant. The members of the fellowship looked crestfallen since Gandalf fell.

Mÿne went to the pond after the hobbits got back. She gathered the silky clothes from her mattress and took off. She walked along the path that was marked with little lights. She came to a small pond, surrounded by delicate branches, covering her privacy. She laid down the clothes and started to pull of her clothes. Considering the fact she was inside a forest, it wasn't even cold.

When she had ridden herself from her clothes, she stepped into the pond. It was surprisingly warm. The tips of her long hair reached the surface of the pond as she stepped deeper into it. A nice smell came from the water, like lilies. She sunk deeper into the surface until only the upper half of her nose was visible. She sighed comfortably, taking in the scent of the pond and the temperature of the water. Her eyes fluttered close as she enjoyed her bath. She leaned backwards and let her hair unfold around her. She softly washed herself.

When she got out she dried herself with the clean cloth the elves also provided them with. She picked up the clothes she was given. A light blue silk gown with little gems around the waist. It was low cut and the sleeves were long. Mÿne dried her hair as she looked at the dress. It was pretty, that she would admit. She'd put on the dress and looked into the surface of the pond. The dress seemed to fit her perfectly. More at ease she walked back to the encampment. She hung her drying cloth at a string between the trees. Her hair swooped around her as she turned around. Elves were coming from the stairs in the distant, carrying trays of food with them. They silently walked up to them and placed the trays in front of the fellowship. There was bread, dried meat, eggs, fruit and other sorts. There was even a bottle of wine.

"Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn hope you will enjoy your meal they've sent you." one of the elves said, gesturing at the trays. "Eat well and rest."

Then they left.

From a far distant a small singing voice was heard. Within minutes more elves began to sing. The Fellowship grew silent as they listened to the beautiful voices.

"It's a lament for Gandalf." Legolas said as he came back with some water.

"What do they say about him?" Merry asked, blowing smoke from his lips. He and Pippin were holding their pipes, heads cocked to the side to listen to the elven song.

"I have not the heart to tell you..." Legolas said, "For me, the grief is still too near." he said, looking at the hobbits.

Mÿne shot a look at Frodo, who rested against the tree. He too listened but he seemed distant with his thoughts. Mÿne moved around, sitting on a nearby root, drinking the last of her wine. Behind her she heard Boromir talking to Aragorn.

"I heard her voice in my head." he said, his voice still shaken. "She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. She said to me, 'Even now there is hope left'. But I cannot see it." his voice changed from shaking to fear and frustration. "It's been long since we had any hope." He fell silent for a while and Mÿne heard Aragorn taking place next to Boromir.

"My father is a noble man but his rule is failing." Boromir said, regaining his composure again, "And our people lose faith...He looks to me to make things right and I would do it. I would see the glory of Gondor restored." he gained his proud voice again as Mÿne heard him shifting against the tree. "Have you ever seen it Aragorn?" he asked, "The White Tower of Ecthelion. Glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver... It's banner caught high in the morning breeze... Have you ever been called home...by the clearing of silver trumpets?"

"I have seen the White City... Long ago." Aragorn said. Mÿne thought about it. The last time was when she was already his pupil. She remembered its Tower and the White Tree, guarded by the men with the masks.

"One day, our paths will lead us there. And the Tower Guards shall take up the call: The Lords of Gondor have returned."

Mÿne smiled. If the war was over, Aragorn could take his position as King of Gondor. He could rule and Boromir would make an excellent Captain. Mÿne stood up and mingled with the rest of the Fellowship. She was tired and she wanted to sleep. She strutted over to her mattress and laid down.

"Get some rest." Legolas said as he sat down at the mattress across hers. "I talked to Aragorn. We might leave in two days at the least. We must gather all the strength we can muster."

Mÿne nodded and before she knew it, her eyes closed and she fell asleep, the lament of the elves still ringing softly in her ear.