Chapter 10: Resting day
The elven songs drifted through the twilight, soft and mournful, echoing the grief each member of the Fellowship felt for Gandalf's passing. They sat together, huddled close as if in some unspoken effort to keep the memory of their fallen guide alive. The loss was still raw, a weight they carried in silence as they sat by the soft glow of a fire, comforted only by the timeless melodies of Lothlórien.
Evelyn, however, felt strangely detached. Of course, Gandalf's death was tragic, but she could not fathom dwelling on it forever. Life went on, after all, and to her, sorrow felt like a momentary pause, not a place to linger. She glanced over at Lothrinna, who was sitting quietly, wrapped in her thoughts.
"Lothrinna," Evelyn called softly, giving her a wave. "Come, help me get a bath, would you? I need to wash off all this road dust, and I'd like to change into something…more presentable."
Lothrinna looked up, her face startled and slightly hesitant. She glanced around, noting the solemn expressions of the others, and hesitated. "Perhaps it would be better to wait… We should honor Gandalf's memory with some respect. There will be time for washing and gowns later."
Evelyn's smile didn't waver, but her eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She leaned in, her voice lowered but sharp enough to carry her meaning. "Be careful, Lothrinna. You wouldn't want to lose your footing and cause an accident, would you? Now, please, do as I ask." Her words stung, a reminder of every clumsy moment that had made Lothrinna feel more like a burden than a companion.
The quiet courage that had surged in Lothrinna's heart flickered and faded, replaced by the familiar sense of inadequacy. She was right, she thought. Causing trouble would only add to the Fellowship's burdens. She nodded meekly, her voice almost a whisper. "Of course, Evelyn. I'll help."
Following Evelyn's instructions, Lothrinna gathered a pitcher of warm water, a fragrant soap, and a soft cloth. She led Evelyn to a secluded glade nearby where the soft light of Lothlórien illuminated everything with an ethereal glow. Evelyn began undressing, a smile of satisfaction on her face as she anticipated the transformation from weary traveler to something far more dazzling.
As Evelyn soaked and scrubbed, Lothrinna stood by, quietly offering whatever she needed—an extra cloth, fresh water, a small bottle of elven oil for her hair. Each time Evelyn beckoned, she responded immediately, working in careful silence.
Finally, Lothrinna unfurled the gown that Evelyn had selected. It was beautiful: a shimmering fabric the color of moonlight, with intricate embroidery that caught the glimmers of light filtering through the leaves above. With delicate care, Lothrinna helped Evelyn slip into it, fastening the silver clasps at her shoulders and smoothing out the sleeves so they fell gracefully around her arms.
Evelyn caught sight of her reflection in a small silvered mirror and smiled, admiring her own beauty. She adjusted a strand of her hair, pleased with the transformation. The gown made her appear as if she were a vision from the ancient legends, an elegant contrast to the rest of the Fellowship, who remained in their travel-worn clothes.
"Thank you, Lothrinna," she said, satisfied. "You really do know how to make things perfect."
Lothrinna offered a soft smile, though her heart felt heavy. She had done what was asked of her, as always. The others might still be grieving, but Evelyn was radiant, and that, it seemed, was all that mattered. The elves' songs drifted back to them through the trees as they made their way back to the Fellowship, Evelyn shining as she walked, while Lothrinna trailed behind, her shadow.
The Fellowship gathered in silence, each lost in their own sorrow. Though they had washed and changed, the ache of loss lingered, dull but heavy, weighing down any lightness of spirit. A simple meal was offered to them, but even the Hobbits had little heart to eat. Their minds lingered on Gandalf—the steady presence now vanished like smoke. Evelyn tried to offer a few words, lighthearted remarks meant to lift their spirits, but they fell short, lost in the shroud of grief. Her own thoughts raced, and she itched to remind them, almost impatiently, that Gandalf would return, reborn and stronger. But that would be absurd—or worse, ruin her place among them. Reluctantly, she quieted and decided to sit down, blending into the subdued atmosphere.
Lothrinna, ever the watchful shadow, stayed near but out of the way, ready to assist if the company needed anything. She had her own sorrow, though muted compared to those who had known Gandalf well. Still, she felt the sadness of his absence, and her heart ached for the others.
From the shadows above, Galadriel observed the scene, her keen eyes unblinking. Her gaze drifted from one member of the Fellowship to another, lingering longest on Evelyn, then on Lothrinna, the quiet elf-maiden standing apart. After a moment, she turned to her mate, Lord Celeborn, standing beside her, his expression one of somber curiosity.
"What do you see, my lord?" Galadriel murmured softly, her voice woven with an air of mystery. Her words were barely a whisper, yet they reached his ears clearly in the hush of the evening.
Celeborn's brows knit together as he studied the Fellowship. "They are grieving, as would any who have lost such a one as Mithrandir," he answered. "A noble company, indeed. Yet I see nothing that would give pause."
He looked at her, sensing the weight of her gaze. "You said the Fellowship was composed of nine members?" he asked, the edge of a question in his tone.
Galadriel's lips curved in a faint, knowing smile as her eyes flicked back to Evelyn and Lothrinna, her gaze narrowing as if appraising them beyond their appearance. "Nine, yes, but look closer, my lord. There are two here who were never meant to be part of this company."
Celeborn glanced back at the Fellowship, a subtle frown forming. "If they were not meant to walk this path, why would Mithrandir or Elrond allow them to join?" he asked, voice low with unease. The thought was unsettling, especially in a journey where each step and each choice held so much weight.
Galadriel's gaze did not waver. "Mithrandir, perhaps, allowed it out of curiosity or amusement. Elrond... Elrond counted on us."
"On us?" Celeborn's tone sharpened. "But for what purpose? Surely, they would not even pass from Lothlórien, were it up to us to decide."
The Lady's eyes, lit with a knowing gleam, turned toward him, her voice a ripple of ancient wisdom, dark and veiled. "Do not forget that Elrond has the gift of foresight. He may have seen what he wished to keep hidden from others. He sent them here for us to judge, not only by our sight but by what lies beyond."
"Then what must be done?" Celeborn asked quietly, still troubled.
Galadriel's gaze softened, yet her words remained heavy with portent. "They will stay here long enough to know their place, to face their truth. And when the time comes, eight shall continue onward." She did not need to say more; her meaning was clear, etched in her voice like an ancient song woven through the night.
The two elves stood in silence, watching, as the Fellowship below gathered their courage to continue forward, while two figures sat unknowingly under the weight of unseen scrutiny. The light of Lothlórien cast long shadows over the Fellowship, as Galadriel and Celeborn prepared to fulfill their silent duty in ways yet unknown.
Under the cover of night, when all the Fellowship had settled into the quiet solace of sleep, Lothrinna slipped away from the group, clutching her small bundle of belongings. Evelyn's offhanded remark that she was "dirty" had stung more than she cared to admit, and it hadn't gone unheard by the others. So, she decided she'd slip off to the stream nearby to wash herself and her clothes, hoping that perhaps, in this small way, she could remove one more reason for disdain.
The moonlight filtered through the trees, casting silvery glimmers over the forest floor, and the path to the water felt softer and more silent than ever. She reached the stream, set her bundle down, and began to rinse her sleeves, awkwardly splashing herself as she tried to wash her clothing. She leaned forward to reach her hem, but her foot slipped on the moss-covered stones at the water's edge. In a flash, she tumbled forward, landing hard on her knees, her hands flailing for balance—only to hit something solid, a figure that had moved beside her without a sound.
It was Legolas. His face, usually calm and steady, was unreadable, his gaze intense in the dim light. Startled and embarrassed, Lothrinna scrambled back, her cheeks flushed, her heart pounding. But instead of helping her to her feet, he remained perfectly still, watching her with a cool detachment.
"Lothrinna," he said quietly, but there was an edge to his voice she had not heard before. "Must you move so loudly? Even here, in Lórien, where the very trees breathe in silence, you manage to disrupt it."
Lothrinna, stammering, tried to explain herself. "I'm... I'm sorry, my lord. I didn't mean to... I was only trying to wash."
Legolas's gaze was unyielding, his eyes narrow, barely concealing his irritation. "You didn't mean to." He repeated the words coldly, each syllable sharpened by a tone she had never heard him use. "That seems to be your way—never meaning to, always causing disruption. You stumble, you fumble, you make us all feel the need to tread carefully around you. But we are not here to watch over you. We are here to complete a task that grows graver with each day."
Lothrinna lowered her gaze, feeling every word like a blow. Her hands trembled as she tried to wring the water from her sleeves, her face hot with embarrassment and shame.
"Look at yourself," Legolas continued, his voice now bitter. "An elf of our kind—clumsy, heedless, and unable to blend with her surroundings. The others may be too kind to say it, but your presence does not bring us strength or stealth; it brings distraction."
She tried to reply, but he interrupted, his voice growing harsher. "We lost Gandalf. And we are entering a realm where every member must be worthy of their place. You do not seem to grasp what is at stake here." His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. "I wonder if you even belong with us."
The words cut deep, her spirit bruised by the unrelenting cruelty in his tone. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes but tried to blink them away, willing herself not to break in front of him.
At that moment, Haldir stepped forward, appearing from the shadows, his expression unreadable as he took in the scene before him. He glanced between Legolas and Lothrinna, a flicker of disapproval crossing his face.
"Legolas," Haldir said softly, but there was an unmistakable firmness in his tone. "You speak from grief, but cruelty does not become you." He inclined his head toward Lothrinna, his gaze stern. "Lothrinna may lack the skill expected of our kin, but she has endured this journey without complaint. That alone earns her a place, however unsteady her steps may be."
Legolas straightened, his face unreadable as he looked away. "It is not cruelty, Haldir," he said, his tone still cold but more subdued. "It is honesty. Perhaps it is something she needed to hear."
But as Haldir watched him, Legolas's gaze softened slightly. Without another word, he turned and strode back toward the trees, his footsteps fading quickly into the night, leaving Lothrinna alone with Haldir.
Haldir regarded her kindly, the tension in his stance easing. "Come," he said quietly, helping her gather her things. "You need not face such bitterness alone."
Lothrinna followed him, her spirit heavy. As they walked, she wondered if Legolas's words were true, if she was indeed a burden, an ill-fit for the Fellowship. The grief of the journey weighed on them all, but for the first time, it pressed upon her with a sense of isolation that felt unbearable.
a/n: Thank you for bringing that to my attention! I had posted the wrong chapter, but it's all fixed now. The next one will be up soon! Keep your hopes high, Moon Maiden 2022—there's a twist coming in the story. And I have to admit, I'm starting to like Lothrinna too!