Chapter 9: Beauty of Lothlórien
The Fellowship emerged from the black halls of Moria, stumbling and breathless, but there was no relief. The sky above was grey, heavy with mist, as if the world itself mourned the loss of Gandalf the Grey. The wizard's absence left an aching emptiness, a void that none could fill. The hobbits, their hearts shattered, clung together in silent tears. Frodo's face was pale and hollow, his eyes wide with disbelief, while Sam wept openly, his usual resilience crumbling.
Aragorn, though pained himself, understood the danger that lurked behind them. Orcs would soon emerge from Moria's depths, and they could not afford to linger. He knelt by Frodo, his voice low but firm. "We must move. Gandalf's sacrifice cannot be in vain."
But it was Legolas who first stirred from his grief, casting a glance over his shoulder at the looming shadows behind them. He, too, felt the pain of losing the wizard—a figure of wisdom and mystery who had guided them all. Yet he knew what they had to do.
"Up," he said softly to the hobbits, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. "We must go."
Evelyn moved toward the hobbits, reaching out a hand to Pippin, whose tear-streaked face turned up toward her. She knelt beside him, her expression soft and encouraging. "Pippin," she said gently, her voice laced with sympathy. "Gandalf wouldn't want you to stay here. We have to keep moving. I know it's hard, but we'll be safe if we keep going."
Her words, though simple, seemed to strike a chord with the others. Frodo, struggling to push through his grief, managed to nod at her, taking comfort in the strength she seemed to radiate. Evelyn's presence was like a warm light, a reminder of their purpose. She was everything they needed—strong, compassionate, brave—and her words helped the others find the strength to rise.
Aragorn caught her eye, offering a quick nod of appreciation. She had a way with the hobbits that was soothing, even magical. He couldn't deny that her presence was helping to lift them from despair, even if only slightly.
Behind Evelyn, Lothrinna watched, her sorrow silent and deep. She mourned Gandalf's passing too. The wizard had always acknowledged her, even in her quieter moments when she felt overshadowed. His kindness had reached even her, and the thought of his absence brought a dull ache to her heart. But unlike Evelyn, she didn't know how to offer words of comfort, how to lift others with the right touch. All she could do was quietly assist, staying close to Evelyn, hoping her mere presence would be enough to lend support.
But as the company readied themselves to move, Lothrinna felt a growing sense of displacement. Evelyn seemed to have a natural grace about her, a way of taking charge without hesitation, and everyone seemed to lean on her in one way or another. Lothrinna, on the other hand, felt clumsy and unsure, a shadow at the edge of their group.
Aragorn called them into line, casting a wary eye behind. "Legolas, take the rear," he instructed, his voice steady. "We need to stay alert. Orcs will be coming for us soon."
Legolas nodded, though his usually calm face betrayed a hint of sorrow. He didn't say a word to Lothrinna, who fell in line without comment, trying not to draw attention to herself. She was painfully aware of the way she lagged behind, and the journey felt like an endless uphill climb. At times, she stumbled on the rocky path, but she forced herself to remain silent, hoping not to burden the others.
As they trudged forward, Evelyn continued to speak to the hobbits, drawing them back to the moment, reminding them of the world they were still fighting for. Her calm confidence resonated, and even Gimli, though gruff and silent in his grief, gave her a nod of approval.
After hours of walking, they reached the borders of Lothlórien, the Golden Wood. Evelyn looked at the silver-green canopy of trees, her breath catching in awe. She had dreamed of this place in her world, a place that shimmered with light and mystery, a realm as timeless as the elves themselves.
It wasn't long before a figure appeared among the trees—Haldir, the Marchwarden of Lothlórien, his face as still as the trees around him. He addressed them with suspicion, especially when he spotted Gimli, his gaze sharp and unwelcoming.
"Haldir of Lórien," Aragorn greeted, his voice steady. "We seek refuge within your borders."
Haldir's eyes traveled over the group, assessing each member with a neutral gaze until he reached the dwarven warrior. "A dwarf?" he said coldly. "Lothlórien does not welcome those of Durin's folk."
Gimli bristled, stepping forward. "And I suppose you think us as ill as the orcs, do you?"
"Peace, Gimli," Aragorn said, stepping between them. He turned to Haldir, his expression serious. "We have lost one of our own, a dear friend, Gandalf the Grey. We seek only a brief rest before we continue our journey."
Haldir's gaze softened slightly at the mention of Gandalf, but he did not fully relent. "My orders stand. A dwarf cannot enter Lothlórien."
It was then that Evelyn spoke, stepping forward with a calm yet firm tone. "We are united as a Fellowship," she said, her voice carrying a quiet authority that made Haldir pause. "We've all suffered great losses and hardships, and now we ask for only a brief respite. Please, Haldir."
The elf hesitated, clearly moved by her earnest appeal. There was a conviction in her eyes that seemed to speak of both compassion and strength, and Haldir looked to Aragorn and then to Legolas, who gave him a respectful nod.
After a tense silence, Haldir finally relented, though he cast a wary glance at Gimli. "Very well. But know that your friend will be watched closely."
Evelyn's face softened with gratitude. "Thank you," she said, offering a gentle smile that even Haldir returned, if only faintly.
Lothrinna, standing a little behind, watched the exchange with mixed emotions. Evelyn's words had swayed Haldir, her kindness and courage shining like a beacon, while Lothrinna felt herself sink further into the background. She shuffled nervously, trying not to draw attention to herself, feeling more like a tag-along than a valued member of the Fellowship. She had barely said a word, unsure of what to offer. The others walked on, and she followed quietly, feeling more out of place than ever.
With Haldir leading them through the golden woods, the Fellowship was finally able to find some respite, though the grief of Gandalf's loss still lingered heavily. As they walked deeper into Lothlórien, Evelyn moved among the group with quiet grace, speaking softly to each of them, comforting and guiding. Lothrinna stayed at the edge, her heart heavy, unsure of what she could possibly add.
And so the Fellowship continued onward, led by Haldir, leaving the sorrow of Moria behind them and entering the timeless beauty of Lothlórien, though each step forward felt heavier than the last, and the shadow of their grief lingered.
The Fellowship, weary from their journey and the recent loss of Gandalf, was led through the serene beauty of Lothlórien. Even blindfolded, Evelyn felt the magic of the place—the light filtering through the golden leaves, the songs of unseen elves echoing softly in the distance, and the ancient serenity that seemed to permeate the air itself. When their blindfolds were finally removed, her breath caught. It was more beautiful than she'd ever imagined, even beyond the visions in the movies she had seen. She looked around with awe, a bright smile breaking through the sorrow, as if the very sight had lifted her spirit.
They were brought before the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, who stood amidst the trees, ethereal and ageless. Galadriel's gaze was piercing yet compassionate, as though she could see through time and into each of their hearts. Celeborn stood beside her, his silver hair shimmering in the soft light, his gaze steady and dignified as he regarded the Fellowship. Together, they seemed more like ancient spirits than flesh and blood.
Celeborn was the first to speak, his voice calm but edged with sorrow. "Eight only are here," he said, his gaze resting on each member. "But nine there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desired to speak with him."
Aragorn stepped forward, bowing his head. "He has fallen into shadow," he replied gravely. "He remained in Moria to face the Balrog, and we could not save him."
Galadriel's face softened, her blue eyes glistening with unspoken grief. "Gandalf's loss is a heavy one, not just for you, but for all who oppose the darkness that threatens Middle-earth," she said, her voice as soft as a river's song yet echoing with immense strength. "Yet he knew that fate is not in our hands, and he faced it willingly."
As Galadriel spoke, Evelyn felt a strange warmth enter her mind—a presence that was somehow both gentle and commanding, like a light searching for hidden shadows. Evelyn's thoughts flared up, an instinctive burst of panic, and she realized this was Galadriel's voice within her mind, seeing through her memories, touching upon the truth she had hidden. Quickly, Evelyn shut herself off, blocking the Lady's touch from going deeper. Galadriel did not press further, yet Evelyn sensed that the Lady had already seen more than she wished.
Galadriel's gaze moved to Lothrinna, softening further as she regarded the quiet elf maiden standing slightly behind the others. Her voice touched Lothrinna's mind with a gentle warmth. *You carry burdens that are hidden from most, young one,* Galadriel's voice echoed softly within her, and Lothrinna felt a strange mix of honor and anxiety. She tried to respond, thinking in humble, self-effacing words. *My lady, I am…only myself. You needn't trouble yourself with me.* She looked down, unused to such direct attention.
Galadriel paused, her gaze lingering on Lothrinna with a hint of surprise, and perhaps compassion. For even among the Eldar, she had rarely seen one so gentle-hearted yet uncertain, an elf whose spirit was burdened with self-doubt. The Lady studied her in silence, her face revealing nothing but a calm understanding. Galadriel sensed the potential within this young elf, despite her timid spirit and unsteady ways. Lothrinna's humility touched her, and though the girl might not have seen it herself, Galadriel saw a resilience buried deep within.
After a moment, Galadriel withdrew from Lothrinna's mind and addressed the group once more, her gaze shifting to each of them. "May the light of Eärendil guide you on your journey," she said. "For you all shall face dark and difficult paths ahead. Trust in each other and in the strength that resides within you."
Evelyn stood a little straighter as Galadriel spoke, feeling as though the Lady's words were meant for her alone. She found herself glancing at Legolas, who was solemn, his gaze fixed on Galadriel with a respect that bordered on reverence. Even Legolas seemed humbled before the Lady of Light, and for a moment, Evelyn felt a strange kinship with him—a shared awe for this elven realm.
As they moved away from the meeting with Galadriel, Lothrinna lingered at the back, her heart full of a strange mix of wonder and sadness. She felt unworthy of the Lady's attention, yet part of her felt seen in a way that no one else in the Fellowship had ever managed. She lowered her gaze, a blush coloring her cheeks as she thought of Galadriel's words. The journey onward would be long, and as she walked, she resolved to keep to the edges of the group, silently supporting her companions in whatever way she could.
a/n: Moon Maiden 2022 Here is the update you asked, hope to have one more soon.