Chapter Nineteen: Of Submarines and Lilies
"Why do you build me up, Buttercup, baby,
Just to let me down and mess me around,
And then worst of all you never call, baby,
When you say you will but I love you still,
I need you more than anyone, darling,
You know that I have from the start,
So build me up, Buttercup, don't break my heart"
- The Foundations, Build Me Up Buttercup.
"This is most undignified." She sniffed.
"I warned you and you chose not to listen." Said Aragorn. She was slung over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, or, as she liked to call it, in a fireman's lift. Having disregarded previous cautions, she continued to talk. And sing. And interpretive dance. Aragorn wanted to make sure that didn't happen again. She was still very much upset about Gandalf and, as much as she tried to bury the ache under layers of small talk, everybody could tell.
"So...Boromir." She said, conversationally. "You're a person, right?"
"Yes." Said Boromir. He really couldn't be certain about where this was going. He walked behind Aragorn and had to endure Elizabeth's moody scowl and, on several occasions, tell her to stop clawing at Aragon's back because it would not make him put her down.
"So you have a birthday."
"Yes."
"When would that be?"
He glanced at her suspiciously. "It is 23rd of January. Why do you ask?"
She shrugged. Or, rather, she tried to. Upside down shrugs are hard to execute. "No reason. So that makes you... how old?"
Why the hell am I even asking this? According to the numerous Fanfiction's I read many years ago, Boromir is about thirty or so. I mean, look at him-
"I am forty years of age." Say what!
Is he serious? "Are you serious?" She asked, startled.
He raised his eyebrows. "Why wouldn't I be?"
"Because... Because..." She stuttered, unable to come up with an acceptable answer. She decided finally on mumbling, "You must moisturise..." They walked a few more paces, Boromir becoming increasingly amused at the way she was being carried. Amused until the singing started, anyway.
"In the town where I was born, lived a man who sailed to sea, and he told us of his life, in the land of submarines. So we sailed on to the sun, 'till we found the sea green, and we lived beneath the waves, in our yellow submarine." She serenaded the clouds and belted out, "WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE! A YELLOW SUBMARINE, A YELLOW SUBMARINE! WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMARINE-"
Meanwhile, Merry and Pippin conversed at the back of the line. "Pip?"
"What?"
"What's a sob-marine?"
"I don't know. Should we ask her?"
"No. Better not. She might eat us."
"WE ALL LIVE IN A YELLOW SUBMA-" Then, with an indignant yelp on her part, Boromir clamped a hand over her mouth, silencing her obnoxious singing. However, that plan all went to pot when she licked his palm. His eyes widened in surprise and he removed his hand.
"Was that absolutely necessary?" He asked, dryly.
"Yes." She nodded vigorously. "Aragorn, pleasecan you put me down? I promise not to do anything too stupid."
"You are in luck, because we are nearing the borders of Lothlorien." Aragorn lowered to the ground. Her face was flushed pink from the involuntary head-rush and she swayed a little. She squinted and stumbled in the fading light. In the distance, the shimmer of a large forest could be seen.
"On second thought, let's not go to Lothlorien, it's a silly place." She said. Do I really want to meet Galadriel? The Elf who can hear your thoughts? Sure, she's a good, generous person- er, Elf, but still. They walked in silence until they reached the edge of the forest. The ground was strewn with yellow flowers, above was a roof of golden leaves held up by silver pillars, the trunks of huge, grey trees. It smelled like the end of summer.
"Stay close, young hobbits. They say a sorceress lives in these woods. An Elf-witch of terrible power." Said Gimli, glancing around the forest, nervously. "All look upon her fall under her spell.. And are never seen again!" I think that was Gimli's idea of being dramatic. He snorted. "Well, here's one Dwarf she won't ensnare so easily. I have the eyes of hawk and the ears of a fox- Oh." The fellowship were surrounded by armed Elves, deadly arrows aimed at their head.
"Should have gone to Specsavers." Muttered Elizabeth.
"The Dwarf breathes so loud we could have shot him in the dark." So THIS is Haldir. So far, I'm not liking him a great deal. The Elf in question was looking at Gimli with clear disdain.
"Haldir of Lorien, we come here for your help. We need your protection." Said Aragorn, no real sense of urgency in his voice, but the tone was gently commanding.
"Aragorn! These woods are perilous. We should go back." Hissed Gimli. Haldir's eyebrows look like they've been stuck on. Perhaps his real ones were ashamed to be part of his face and fell off. Should ask him? Nah, by the look he's giving Gimli, I REALLY wouldn't want to cross him.
"You have entered the realm of the Lady of the Wood. You cannot go back." He gave Elizabeth a curious look, then settled his gaze on Frodo. "Come, she is waiting."
Haldir led them onto a grassy hill top. The fellowship looked with wonderment at the vista spread before them. Several miles to the south, a large hill rose out of the woods. Upon it grew mighty Mallorn trees, taller than any others. Nestled high in the crown was a beautiful city that took her breath away. It shone in the low rays of the late afternoon sun, green, gold and silver. To the east of the city, the forest of Lorien ran down the pale glitter of the Anduin, the great river. Beyond that, the land was flat and empty, formless and vague, until far away it rose again like a dark wall. The sun that gleamed on Lothlorien had not power to enlighten the shadows which lay beyond.
As the evening set in, they stood with Haldir on one of the great trees. "Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion." (Well met, Legolas, son of Thranduil.) Elizabeth was still in partial shock from the beauty of the forest. I wish we had woods like these back home. Maybe then more people would start caring for the environment.
"Govannas vin gwennen, Haldir o Lorien." (Our fellowship stands in your debt, Haldir of Lorien.) Replied Legolas, smiling slightly. Psh, Legolas showing off his politeness. I don't know what the hell he just said but it sounded polite.
"A Aragorn in Dunedain istannen le ammen."
(And Aragorn of the Dunedain, you are know to us.) Haldir stopped before Aragorn. She sighed, a tiny exhalation of air due to boredom and fatigue, but most of the surrounding elves threw a glare in her direction. Woah, these guys need to take a break. Santa must be going crazy looking for them.
"Haldir." Aragorn stated.
"So much for the legendary courtesy of the Elves! Speak words we can all understand!" Snapped Gimli. Elizabeth face-palmed. This is where someone who doesn't go here should say, "I just wish we could all get along like we did in middle school. I wish I could bake a cake filled with rainbows and smiles and everyone would eat and be happy..."
Haldir interrupted her thought process. "We have not had dealings with the Dwarves since the Dark Days."
"And do you know what this Dwarf says to this? Ishkaqwi ai durugnul! (I spit upon your grave!)"
"That was not so courteous." Scolded Aragorn. Haldir walked up to and stopped in front of Frodo. Elizabeth felt funny. Not funny ha-ha, sort of jittery, like bluebirds had congregated in her stomach to take tea. A feeling she hardly ever got; nerves. She couldn't say she particularly cared for it. The edges of her mind resisted a presence, something probing at the corners of her consciousness. She shook her head.
"You bring great evil with you. You can go no further." Well, isn't he just a bucket of cupcakes. Aragorn began to quietly argue with Haldir, attempting to get him to let the fellowship in Lothlorien.
Elizabeth...
Whoa!
She jumped at the sound of a different voice in her head and glanced around suspiciously.
Do not be afraid, child. You are in my domain. The voice was gentle, but strong. A steel lily. We shall talk later. And the presence was gone. The fluttering in her stomach was still there but the tickling at the edge of her mind had vanished.
Haldir and Aragorn stopped arguing, coming to some sort of compromise or conclusion. "You will follow me." Said Haldir. He led them through a set of paths until they were overlooking Caras Galadhon, which Haldir conveniently announced, presumably for the fellowship's benefit. "Caras Galadhon. The heart of Elvendom on earth. Realm of the Lord Celeborn and of Galadriel, Lady of Light."
She unconsciously leaned against Boromir, who supported her weight. She tried to slip away from him smoothly when she realized what she was doing. It wasn't so smooth. She tripped over her own feet like a cat with its feet tied together and an awkward silence was inevitable. She averted her eyes and carried on walking. Why did I do that? There's nothing worse than getting attached to someone and then them getting shot full of arrows. I hate it when people do that. BOROMIR! WHY MUST YOU BE SO MUSCULAR!
They walked up a winding staircase amongst the trees, towards the grand court of Galadriel and Celeborn. At the very top, they stood onto a wide fleet filled with a soft light. The walls were green and silver, the roof gold and in its midst was the trunk of the Mallorn tree, now tapering towards its crown. With a glow issuing forth from the them, the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien descend to meet their guests, hand in hand. Elizabeth felt very grubby as she inspected her ragged fingernails (caked with dirt) and smoothed her shirt the best she could (also rather dirty).
Celeborn stepped forwards. His hair was long and silvery, his face grave and beautiful with no sign of age upon it. Next to him was Galadriel. She seemed untouched by time, with hair of deep gold and her unsurpassed beauty. Her eyes were the only indication that she was not in her youth. They weren't old exactly, but they were wise. So much knowledge and insight was reflected in her eyes.
"Nine there are, yet ten there were set from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf, for I much desire to speak with him." He looked to Aragorn.
Galadriel spoke gently, the same steel-lily voice Elizabeth had heard in her mind. "He has fallen into shadow." Elizabeth bowed her head in the memory of Gandalf. "The Quest stands upon the edge of knife. Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all. Yet hope remains while the company is true."
Wise, blue eyes met honey-brown ones and Galadriel and Elizabeth held the gaze levelly. "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil." Elizabeth broke eye contact and looked down at her feet.