"I had crossed the line. I was free; but there was no one to welcome me to the land of freedom. I was a stranger in a strange land."
-Harriet Tubman
As the Fellowship ran towards the woods, since they had all silently decided that a trot would do them more good than a slow walk, wallowing in their grief, Amelia found herself unexpectedly conflicted, on top of the guilt and grief Moria had thrown upon her. She noticed that she was sticking close to Merry and Pippin, who stuck together like glue as always, and was finally able to walk at a normal pace once again once trees surrounded her on all sides.
Most of the trees were tall, with yellow or misty grey leaves gently falling around her like snow, but some trees were pure white, nearly transparent and looked like mirages. She heard Gimli telling the hobbits about an elf-witch and rolled her eyes at him. She might not have had enough energy to stomach the thought of running another mile, though she had done so amicably despite the sting in her side, but she would never be unable to muster enough for an eyerolll.
"Well… here's one dwarf she won't ensnare so easily!" Gimli grumbled and Amelia felt like laughing, but the amusement refused to come. She had not listened to the conversations of the rest of the Fellowship as they formed a line again and walked through the trees, keeping their steps as light as possible. However, Gimli's boasting caught her attention. "I have the eyes of a hawk and the ears of a fox- oh!" He exclaimed as an arrow was shoved in his face. Amelia had caught snippets of how he had told their hobbits grim tales of elf-witches and curses befallen travelers who strayed from the path, and she doubted any of them would make their coming hosts inclined towards hospitality.
As if they materialized out of thin air, elves with long hair and golden armor stepped forth around them, a dozen arrows trained on each of them. Legolas instantly had his bow at the ready, but Amelia caught his blue eyes and shook her head ever so slightly. She was amazed when he lowered it.
"The dwarf breathes so loud, we could have shot him in the dark." A haughty voice said and an elf stepped forth. He looked nothing like his movie-counterpart, Amelia noted, but perhaps that was an improvement. His hair wasn't pale, but a fresh, golden strawberry blonde instead and his pale, green eyes shone as if they held an inner light. Gimli literally growled at his quip and Amelia stifled a giggle. She was exhausted beyond all sense. "You travel in a company…" Haldir's eyes swept over their filthy frames. "And yet, not in one seeming to be bound for a specific land." His eyes rested on her and he raised both of his eyebrows. "And with a woman. A strange tale to tell, I sense."
"Oh, mate, you have no idea." Amelia breathed and Haldir seemed surprised that she could speak at all.
"And the mystery increases, as ever." He turned towards Legolas, resting a hand on his chest and then making a soft gesture towards his fellow elf. "Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduillion." He greeted and Amelia instantly tuned out. The two babbled in elvish, on an on, and Haldir greeted Aragorn in the same manner as well.
"What's with all this elvish nonsense? Speak words we can all understand!" Gimli exclaimed in annoyance, still insulted. Haldir's face hardened at his rude tone.
"We have not had dealings with the dwarves since the dark days." The veiled threat was there, but Gimli pressed on.
"And you know what this dwarf says to that?" He proclaimed a loud curse in Khuzdul and Amelia felt a surge of irritation. She was tired, hungry and had no time for petty grudges of who insulted whose grandfather. She spun around, the elves pointing at her with their bows tightening their grips on their weapons and stomped heavily on Gimli's foot. He shouted something in his native tongue at her in his pain.
"Gimli, you are the best friend I have in this hole, but if you don't shut up, I will pull you backwards through the horn of Gondor." She threatened and he grumbled at her.
"Amelia, Gimli…" Aragorn warned them both and Amelia turned back towards Haldir obediently, but begrudgingly. Surprisingly, he looked amused at their little display. Amelia wondered whether the customer service in Lórien was as brilliant as it was in Rivendell. However, Haldir caught sight of Frodo and he stiffened.
"You bring great evil with you." He spoke as if he had spotted the balrog itself. He whipped towards Aragorn once again. "You can go no further."
"Oh. Brilliant." Amelia grumbled and Legolas hushed her gently. Her fingers ached to strangle him with her bare hands, but she settled for dumping down onto the forest floor as Aragorn started arguing with Haldir in elvish so quick that only a native speaker would be able to follow. Amelia felt something stopping her from putting her backpack down and she turned it over, curious.
An orcish dagger, crude and black, with a vaguely greenish undertone, was embedded in it. Amelia blinked until the pieces fell into place and the pulled it out, leaving a thin hole in her backpack, which was already starting to see some wear and tear. An orc had tried to stab her from behind, but her backpack had stopped it. Amelia felt confused, as she knew that the dagger was too long to be stopped by the backpack alone, but then it hit her. She pulled out her coat and true enough, its back was torn, but everything else was intact and it was still plenty usable.
"Gimli?" She called slowly and the dwarf scowled at her, rubbing his foot. "Is there a specific word for when you survive something you know you definitely, under any circumstances, shouldn't have survived?" Gimli snorted.
"I believe that is called sheer, dumb luck." He answered and Amelia nodded slowly.
"Yeah. I suppose it is." Amelia stuffed the dagger inside the pocket of her coat, seeing no sense in throwing a usable weapon, no matter how foul, away and leaned back, using it as a headrest, as she tried to wrap her head around the fact that she only lived due to a simple coincidence.
"Gandalf's death was not in vain." Amelia jerked awake, but once again, she couldn't recall what she had dreamed about, other than faint glimpses of snow and curly hair. It seemed that one or two hours had passed and night had begun to fall on the forest. She could still hear Aragorn arguing intently with Haldir in elvish, with Legolas chirping his own comments now and again. She blinked a few times and pulled herself up into a sitting position. Then, she saw that Boromir was talking to Frodo, who still had an unsmiling, unhappy face. "Nor would he have you give up hope." Boromir continued and Amelia thought that she saw a glimpse of the man who had helped her get into Rivendell so long ago. "You carry a heavy burden, Frodo. Don't carry the weight of the dead." Frodo still looked unhappy, but Boromir's words had clearly given him something to contemplate and Amelia thought she saw just a bit of the raw grief in his eyes lessen, though it didn't disappear.
"You will follow me." Haldir suddenly ordered in a language all present understood and Amelia rubbed the final bits of sleep out of her eyes as she got to her feet and followed the marchwarden. They had entered the woods in a fresh trot, but Haldir and his followers seemed content with a calm walk through the trees, taking time to appreciate the nature around them. Amelia had tied her coat around her waist, like a skirt again, and she brushed the clumps of her hair that had fallen out of her ponytail behind her ears.
"Hey." She mumbled as she caught up to Boromir. He didn't answer, but turned his head towards her. She held out his waterskin. She had nearly forgotten to return it to him. "Thanks. I appreciate it." He nodded and fastened it at his belt again and they walked in silence, aware of the feeling that the forest itself was watching them. They walked like that, in one, long line for what seemed like an entire night, until Boromir helped her up a hilltop and she stopped in awe, just as everyone else had.
"Caras Galadhon." Haldir spoke reverently, with a clear love in his voice. "The heart of elvendom on earth. Realm of Lord Celeborn, and of Galadriel, Lady of Light." They were overlooking a golden forest. Not yellow or orange, like the one they had come from, but golden, the rising sun's rays making it shine as if it had been polished. The trunks of the trees were white and silver, like misty mornings and silvery clouds, and Amelia found herself at a loss for words.
Twining and twirling architecture, vaguely reminiscent of the one in Rivendell, swirled up around the gigantic mallorn trees, forming intricate stairs, platforms and plateaus. The distant sound of wind chimes and fountains were carried to them by a warm breeze and the forest floor had white paths laid out for weary travelers to follow. The elves, who fit into the environment perfectly due to their natural beauty, grace and poise, wandered on and among the trees in robes and dresses, with circlets of their fair heads.
The Fellowship followed Haldir into the serene splendor, craning their necks to look up towards the natural roof made by the treetops. White lanterns, hung on low branches and perched on white pedestals, lit up their path for them.
The Fellowship was led up one of the stairs built around one of the enormous trees, as tall as the balrog and some even more than that, and from that they could get a good look at the various alcoves, plateaus and pathways, all of them with a soft glow, that had been built with an obvious respect and love for the forest it was built in.
The sound of distant singing, in high, melodious voices, was carried throughout the forest like a gentle whisper and Haldir led them all up onto a platform in front of the largest residence in sight. It was white, with holes that formed a pattern too intricate for mortal eyes to follow, and a glow bordering on holy emanated from its inside. They were placed directly at the foot of the stair leading up and into the house and Amelia caught Boromir's eyes flittering around nervously.
"Relax." She muttered at him, but he didn't seem to hear. Then, Amelia's eyes were led to the contours of two tall people, a man and a woman, appearing against the glow. Frodo and Sam's eyes widened, Amelia saw that Merry gaped openly at them and Aragorn bowed his head at them in respect. Amelia took a good look at them and immediately concluded two things.
First, the woman's portrayal in the movies couldn't even hold a candle to the real thing and, secondly, the woman's beauty was one that was perhaps only surpassed by Arwen Undómiel herself, though it was another kind of beauty. Galadriel's beauty was older, more solemn. Amelia thought that the name of Lady of Light couldn't have been more accurate. Appearing in a white dress, with a silvery circlet resting in her long, golden hair, Galadriel truly looked like some otherworldly apparition. Her husband, Lord Celeborn, was tall and fair, looking nothing like how Peter Jackson had imagined him. His hair was longer, a silvery white, and he was tall, looking to be at the height of his life, clad in white and silver robes.
"The enemy knows you have entered here." Celeborn spoke gravely. "What hope you had in secrecy is now gone." Amelia felt a spark of defiance, but was smart enough to hold her tongue. "Eight I see, yet nine there were set out from Rivendell and no woman was among them. Tell me, where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him? I can no longer see him from afar." His words were not as unkind as they had been in the movie, but Galadriel looked into Aragorn's eyes and saw the truth in them. When she spoke, her voice was deeper than what Amelia would have suspected, but it carried a hint of something ancient, a remnant of an age long gone from the world.
"Gandalf the Grey did not pass the borders of this land." She spoke mournfully and the sound of something so beautiful speaking such sorrow felt like a knife in Amelia's chest. "He has fallen into shadow."
"He was taken by both shadow and flame." Legolas said quietly. "A balrog of Morgoth… for we went needlessly into the net of Moria."
"Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life." Galadriel sounded as if her thoughts were far away. "We do not yet know his full purpose." Amelia, who had been studying the steps of the stairs, looked up and locked eyes with Galadriel, two pairs of blue eyes staring into each other. "And yet there are some amongst us… who do know much of it." Galadriel's voice was devoid of any accusation, but the Fellowship turned their heads towards Amelia in confusion.
You know much, Aiano. Galadriel's voice in her head was more sinister than the one she had in normal conversation. Be weary, that it does not come to turn events for the worse. "But it shall remain hidden from us… for a time." Amelia broke eye contact and looked down, briefly closing her eyes to stem the crushing guilt, but then she frowned. That is the name I have given you, for you are but a stranger in a foreign land, far from your home.
"Do not let the emptiness of Khazad-Dûm fill your heart, Gimli son of Glóin." Gimli looked up at the Lady with a reverent expression and Amelia knew that he was already completely enamored. Elf-witch indeed. "For the world has grown full of peril, and in all lands love is now mingled with grief." Galadriel turned towards Boromir, who gasped softly and his eyes widened. Amelia knew some of what Galadriel told him in the ensuing silence, but not the absolute details, word for word, but they seemed close to bringing the mighty warrior to tears, something Amelia thought that she would never see in her life. She made no move to comfort him.
"What now becomes of this Fellowship? Without Gandalf, hope is lost." Celeborn spoke softly and Amelia protested without thinking.
"No, it isn't." She said abruptly and came under the collective scrutiny of elves, hobbits, humans and a dwarf. "Our success wasn't hinged on Gandalf's survival. It depended on the ring's destruction. It still does!"
"The quest stands upon the edge of a knife." Galadriel said, with a soft, acknowledging nod towards Amelia. "Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all." To Amelia, those words didn't exactly bring her comfort. She was, essentially, one big, fat aberration. She saw Boromir looking lost and a bit shocked, Aragorn thoughtful and Frodo with a face that she couldn't quite decipher. "Yet hope remains, while 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." Galadriel glanced at Frodo and Amelia knew and remembered enough to know that Galadriel was speaking to him in a way that was beyond words.
They were led away from the Lord and Lady of Lórien without exchanging another word with them.
They were given their own canopy in the trees, one large and with enough beds for them all and were informed that, if they needed something, they needed only ask, for they were guests of the highest honor, of the last living member of the House of Finarfin.
Legolas was happy to bear the robes offered to him, white with silver swirls and he bore a circlet due to his royal heritage. The hobbits were all given new clothes, but Gimli, Boromir and Amelia refused to change out of theirs, though Amelia was glad to accept a bath, a brush and a proper meal after so long without it. She accidentally tore out several clumps of her hair when she attempted to brush it, but when an elf offered to help her and did so, Amelia barely felt the brush carting through her damp hair. Having second thoughts, she stuffed her sweater, coat and gloves down her backpack, but kept her white shirt, pants, socks and boots on, despite them being filthy. She would have them washed when she went to bed, she informed the elves, but first the set off to follow Boromir, for he had wandered off into a seemingly random direction and had yet to return.
As she walked in the direction that he had taken, she heard a mournful song vibrating through the air and she looked up to see the shapes of many elves standing tall on stairs, platforms and in alcoves, singing a lament for Gandalf in their melodious voices, capable of conveying so much more grief and sorrow than any mortals ever would. For a long moment she simply stood still, letting their voices wash over her, but then she continued, eventually ending up on the forest floor. As she rounded a corner made by a large mallorn, she happened upon a riverbank. She blinked as she saw Aragorn and Boromir standing close with blazing eyes, as if they had been arguing.
"What's going on here?" She asked innocently, even though she knew full well what Aragorn had hissed at Boromir moments before her arrival.
"It's nothing of importance." Aragorn reassured her calmly and she raised her eyebrows at him.
"You're an excellent liar, I'll give you that, but now it's time for little rangers to head off to bed. So shoo. I need to talk to Boromir." Aragorn looked as if he was going to argue, but Amelia gave him a hard look and he wisely headed off in the direction she had come from.
Boromir dumped down on a mallorn root and put his head in his hands. Then, he looked up, looking tired and a bit annoyed.
"You wished to speak with me?"
"No." Amelia sat down beside him. "I just wanted Aragorn away from you. You two picking a fight is the last thing we need on our hands."
"We were not…"
"Don't give me any of that. I could smell the testosterone half a mile away." Then, she rolled her shoulders. "Now that we're here though, I feel like I should, I don't know… apologize or something." Boromir looked surprised. "I mean, you've been a royal pain in the arse, but I haven't been acting much better and you… might have deserved every bit of what I gave you, but that doesn't I should have…"
"Is this how all your apologies go?"
"Yes, actually. I'm usually too proud to acknowledge or regret that I've been a bitch, so, well… you should probably feel pretty special. I know I'm… difficult, when it comes to respect, but… well, we don't have things like nobility back home. We take absolute equality very seriously, except when we don't." Amelia realized that she actually had something that she wanted to speak to him about. "Back in Moria… that was my first fight. First, actual, real fight. I'd never even seen an orc before. And you've… well, I feel like I, I don't know… understand why you act the way you do a little better now. You've spent your entire life fighting for your country, leading Gondor, helping your people and then, some ranger comes waltzing in and you're told that you 'owe him your allegiance' or something like that, I mean… After a whole life of real fighting and him being off, doing who knows what and being who knows where, I can understand why you might have needed to go and scream into your pillow for a few hours and I am completely rambling right now and you're probably not even listening anymore, but I really needed to say this out loud." Amelia took a deep breath and went silent. Boromir seemed surprised, bordering on shocked. "I just wanted you to know that, so… Goodnight, I suppose. And do me a favor and get a shave."
Amelia rose up and went back after Aragorn, leaving Boromir alone with his thoughts on the riverbank, looking awfully out of place.
"Aragorn?" She mumbled to Isildur's heir when she returned. "What does 'Aiano' mean?" Aragorn was sitting and sharpening his sword when she dumped down beside him.
"I am not so well versed in the quenya tongue as I am in Sindarin." He answered. "It is an old, almost forgotten language… only the Lady Galadriel and a few others like her speak it fluently now, but I believe it means something like 'stranger' or 'foreigner'. Why do you ask?"
"Oh… no reason at all. Think I overheard it or something." Aragorn didn't inquire any further, even though it was a rotten lie and Amelia resolved to going to sleep as quickly as possible, since she had a proper bed to do it in. The elves immediately took her clothes away for washing as she had asked them to earlier and she felt no shame in flaunting around in her underwear in front of the Fellowship. Propriety wasn't something she cared much about. She didn't do much flaunting though, but instead slipped under her covers and fell asleep to the sound of singing elves and Samwise adding his own verse about Gandalf's magnificent fireworks.