Lothlórien lay dark and silent in the clear night. The stars shining down upon the forest, slivers of light danced across the forest floor. A dark shadow sat perched upon a boulder a small brook bubbling past its course edges. The shadow stood away from the boulder, walking aimlessly alongside the brook. A flicker of starlight flashed across the young maidens face, her eyes were a set deep grey. And her long curly hair was as black as the night.
The maiden continued along, deep in thought. Her name was Daeriul daughter of Narmia and Kaladrin, watchers of Lothlórien. She was different to those who dwelt in Caras Galadhon, which she recognised, as many did. Daeriul had an air of mysteriousness about her; she was stern, quiet and remained alone. Steady as the elements around her, at peace yet at war, inside.
Daeriul had spent the last few nights wandering through Lothlórien, escaping from the dreams that had been plaguing her. They were all different but one thing was the same, death and destruction. At the end of her dreams, Uruk’Hai come into her view, and in the distance a voice can be heard, laughing evilly. She then awakens in a bed of sweat, screaming a name she has never heard before, Taurgûl.
Though it had been a while since the One Ring had been destroyed, whispered rumours spread through the forest of the Uruk’Hai that had been massing in the East. Many dismissed these rumours, but Daeriul could not, she believed in her dreams. The stars began to fade as the night ended and the day came again. Daeriul started towards a large tree already lit by the light of the rising sun. As she stood by the base of the tree she whistled low. A makeshift ladder fell and hit the trunk twice before Daeriul could steady it. She quickly climbed up the wooden steps and pulled herself up upon the telain.
Two Elves greeted her warmly and she smiled politely at them, walking towards the wooden railings, leaning against them and sighing. In the far distance, the tall Mallorn’s of Caras Galadhon could be seen, glittering and silent in the awakening sunlight.
“Quel amrun, Daeriul, mankoi naa lle sinome?”
Daeriul turned quickly; she smiled at warmly at the elvish greeting.
“Quel amrun, Haldir, what brings me here is that of my business,” she replied, smiling slyly.
Haldir’s eyes flickered amusingly, “Aye that it may be, but I believe why, you wanted to see me, did you not?” He retorted.
Daeriul’s smile froze; she sighed and turned away from him, “If you must know… it was my dreams.”
“The same?” He whispered, a hint of worry laced his voice.
“Aye,” Daeriul’s eyes lifted towards Haldir’s. “Do you believe in them?” His voice had gone down to a steady whisper. “I have never been wrong before.” She replied, gazing steadily at him.
The tall wooden gates of Caras Galadhon opened wide as Daeriul approached, faceless eyes stared down at her as she crossed through the threshold. Silently she ascended the abandoned steps of the tall Mallorn, crossing into what was once known as the court of Galadriel and Celeborn. Yet none dwelt their, Galadriel had sailed across to Valinor, whilst Celeborn left Lothlórien, pursuing a new dwelling. Her footsteps echoed across the telain as she slipped into the still house, pausing only to hear voices that floated down from the far-off Study.
Daeriul glided down the corridor, and peered through the open doorway; her father sat behind his large oaken escritoire, his face, young but worn and leathery. Worry etched his face as his mouth was pulled into a tight grimace and his eyes distant. Her mother stood in front of the escritoire, staring forward intently.
Narmia’s eyes flickered to Daeriul’s enclosing shadow, a fake smile plastered across his worried face. “Vanimle sila tiri sina amrun, amin Daeriul.” (Your beauty shines bright this morning, my daughter)
“Quel amrun Atar, Naneth. I am sorry I was not here, I… it was my dreams.”
Narmia’s smile faded, his face grew darker, he glanced at Kaladrin, who gave a curt nod.
“What? What is it?” Daeriul enquired, seeing the abrupt movement between her parent’s.
“Daeriul, we have discerned a connection between your dreams, and news we have acquired recently.” Narmia’s eyes flickered over Daeriul, who stood fixedly. “My scout has returned from the East, though the Dark Lord has been destroyed, his evil offspring continue to grow, the Uruk’Hai. Their bewitching leader is intent on seeing the end of Lothlórien, and all who dwell in it. They are coming. Tula n’ndengina lye.” (Coming to kill us)
The air around them grew still as the last of Narmia”s voice faded. Daeriul stared disbelievingly, until her small voice crackled through the stillness. “”Do we have no strength to defend ourselves? Will we not have the aid of the realms of Men, or Elves?”
“We are not certain, for the allies of Mordor know we are weak without the power of Galadriel, what is left of her enchantment is fading.” Narmia’s eyes dropped, his mask now uncovered, revealing the sadness and anguish that lingered before. Daeriul’s eyes shifted to Kaladrin, who had not uttered a sound through the account.
“Naneth, will we be forced from Lothlórien into Imladris or Greenwood?”
“That we may, but all hope lies within the reality that the Uruk’Hai will abandon this foolishness.”
Daeriul’s face fell, she did not have the heart to leave her home, it would grieve her to do such a thing. Kaladrin knew Daeriul’s distress; leaving Caras Galadhon would be painful. Her home, what was left of her memories and her ancestry.
“Daeriul, please listen, I do not wish to leave either, but we must. We have to be strong-“
Kaladrin stepped forward, but Daeriul whirled away from her, passing quickly down the corridor and onto the telain. She stopped near the edge of the wooden platform, glancing over the railings at the grassy surface below. Were her dreams true? Violent, yes, but prophetic? A chill ran down her spine at this thought, she hoped her dreams were just dreams, nothing more. For what she had dreamed the night before was beyond what she could ever comprehend.