The Mirror of Galadriel
As said before, this is for Haldir, and Craig Parker of course! Haldir and all the characters do not belong to me, they are all Tolkien’s, and I guess to some extent Peter Jackson. And the actors that play them. I must say, everyone did a very good job, especially Viggo, Ian (McKellen) and Sean (Astin). In my mind, no one could have done better jobs As well, this will be mostly my writing, so in no way does it compare to that of Tolkien. I suck, and am not the most original person, so bare with me.
They were growing close to their destination, Magan could feel it. If she thought Lorien was beautiful in the day, it was indeed just as beautiful at night. The moon was bright, and the stars were like the silver candles the elves about them uncovered. The mallorn trees grew here, and were even more great and grand than the ones seen before. Haldir at last turned to the company, and spread his arm out to welcome them.
“Welcome to Caras Galadhon!” he smiled. “Here is the city of the Galadhrim where dwell the Lord Celeborn and Galadriel the Lady of Lorien. But we cannot enter here, for the gates do not look northward. We must go round to the southern side, and the way is not short, for the city is great.”
They followed a road that was made of white stone, and it seemed like they were in heaven, everything was so perfect. They at last came to a gate, on which Haldir knocked. He said something of Elvish and the door opened. As they entered, Mag became puzzled, for no guards were seen nor heard. But far away came the soft melody of many elves, like angels, and a horrible thought struck Magan. What if, at home, she was dead, and now she was in heaven? Even as the thought became, she knew it was foolishness. They came to a large, white ladder, and beside it were three elves, in gray mail and white cloaks.
“Here dwell Celeborn and Galadriel,” Haldir said. “It is their wish that you should ascend and speak with them.”
Then, one of the three elves blew a blast from a horn, and in response came three blasts from above. Mag tried to see where it came from, but saw naught.
“I will go first,” said Haldir. “Let Frodo come next and with him Legolas.” He looked at Magan, and it seemed to disappoint him that the orders from above said that she was not to come with him, or something like that. “The others may follow as they wish. It is a long climb for those that are not accustomed to such stairs, but you may rest on the way.”
So they went. As bid, Haldir, Legolas and Frodo went first. Then, Mag followed, and then the hobbits, Gimli, Boromir and last went Aragorn, lingering, soaking up every retrospection that came, and that appeared to be a lot. On the way up, they all passed many flets, until they came to one very large flet. It was so big, on it stood a house, and Mag gasped, knowing where it was they were and that they had at last reached their destination. The chamber was lit dully, and it seemed to almost glow, more fairer than anything Mag had yet seen. The walls were of silver and green, very appropriate, and the roof of gold. Under a canopy, there sat two individuals, and Mag bowed instantly, as these were the people they’d traveled long to see. The others followed her lead, and Galadriel smiled at them softly. They were both tall, and the Lady was no less tall than the Lord. Celeborn’s hair was of shining, long silver and Galadriel’s was a long river of deep gold, flowing freely. A circlet of silver was upon her head. Both seemed ageless, and fair, and full of wisdom, and everything that was of good. Both stood.
“Sit now beside my chair, Frodo of the Shire!” Celeborn said. “When all have come we will speak together.”
Then they came, and Celeborn greeted them by name.
“Welcome Aragorn son of Arathorn!” he said, and grinned. “It is eight and thirty years of the world outside since you came to this land; and those years lie heavy on you. But the end is near, for good or ill. Her lay aside your burden for a while!”
Legolas bowed as the Lord looked on him. “Welcome son of Thranduil! Too seldom do my kindred journey hither from the North.”
“Welcome Gimli son of Gloin! It is long indeed since we saw one of Durin’s folk in Caras Galadhon. But today we have broken our long law. May it be a sign that though the world is now dark better days are at hand, and that friendship shall be renewed between our peoples.” To this, Gimli bowed low in the dwarf fashion.
He turned to Mag, but did not seem to know what to say. So he said naught, but his appreciation seemed to go beyond word, and she understood. Then, all the guests were seated before the chair of the lord and he looked down on them. “Here there are nine,” said Celeborn, and Mag knew what would come next, and she felt the grief of Gandalf’s departure creep back into her. “Ten were to set out: so said the messages. But maybe there has been some change of counsel that we have not heard. Elrond is far away, and the darkness gathers between us, and all this year the shadows have grown longer.”
“Nay, there was no change of counsel,” Galadriel said, speaking at last. Her voice was musical yet grave, and if anything, she seemed to be the ultimate elf. “Gandalf the Grey set out with the Company, but he did not pass the boarders of this land. Now tell us where he is; for I much desire to speak with him again. But I cannot see him from afar, unless he comes within the fences of Lothlorien: a grey mist is about him, an they ways of his feet and of his mind are hidden from me.”
“Alas!” Aragorn said sadly. “Gandalf the Grey fell into shadow. He remained in Moria and did not escape.”
The elves around them lets cries of sorrow, and Mag looked at them with a grim gaze.
“These are evil tidings,” Celeborn said. “the most evil that have spoken here in long years full of grievous deeds.” He then turned to Haldir, and spoke in their language. “Why has nothing of this been told to me before?”
Mag stepped in before Legolas had a chance to. “Do not blame Haldir. We haven’t told him anything. First we were still in grief, then here on the paths of Lothlorien, we were glad. Uh…” Mag found she felt very stupid.
“Yet our grief is great and our loss cannot be mended,” said Frodo. “Gandalf was out guide, and he led us through Moria; and when our escape seemed beyond hope he saved us, and he fell.”
“Tell us now the full tale!” Celeborn said, in sorrow as much as interest. And Aragorn did. Everything from on Caradhras to the Chamber of Mazarbul, and the bridge. “An evil of the Ancient World it seemed, such as I have never seen before. It was both shadow and flame, strong and terrible.”
“It was a Balrog of Morgoth,” Legolas informed; “of all elf-banes the most deadly, save the One who sits in the Dark Tower.”
“Indeed I saw upon the bridge that haunts our darkest dreams, I saw Durin’s Bane.” Gimli said, and he seemed scared to some extent.
“Alas!” Celeborn said. “We have long feared that under Caradhras a terror slept. But I had not known that the Dwarves stirred up this evil in Moria again, I would have forbidden you to pas the northern boarders, you and all that went with you. And if it were possible, one would say that at the last Gandalf fell from Wisdom into folly, going needlessly into the net of Moria.”
“He would indeed be rash that said that thing.” Galadriel added sincerely. “Needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. Those that followed him knew not his mind and cannot report his purpose fully. But however it may be with the guide, the followers are blameless. Do not repent of your welcome to the Dwarf. If our folk had been exiled long and far fro, Lothlorien, who of the Galadhrim, even Celeborn the Wise, would pass nigh and would not wish to look upon their ancient home, though it had become an abode of dragons? Dark is the water of Kheled-zaram, and cold are the springs of Kiblinala, and fair were the many pillared halls of Khazad-Dum in Elder Days before he fall of mighty kings beneath the stone.”
Galadriel smiled, and Gimli was surprised that he’d heard from what had seemed like an enemy, the tongue of his own people. He bowed.
“Yet more fair is the living land of Lorien, and the Lady Galadriel is above all the jewels that lie beneath the earth!”
There was silence, and Mag smiled at the dwarf, as she had never seen him in this manner. Finally, Celeborn spoke.
“I did not know that your plight was so evil. Let Gimli forget my harsh words: I spoke in the trouble of my heart. I will do what I can to aid you, each according to his wish and need, but especially that one of the little folk who bears this burden.”
“Your quest is know to us,” Galadriel said, looking upon Frodo, her eyes smiling. “But we will not speak here of it openly. Yet not in vain it will prove, maybe, that you came to this land seeking aid, as Gandalf himself plainly purposed. For the Lord of the Galadhrim is accounted the wised of the Elves of Middle Earth, and a giver of gifts beyond the power of kings. He has dwelt in the west since the dawn of Days, and I have dwelt with him years uncounted; for ere the fall of Nimrodel or Gondolin I passed over he mountains, and together through ages of the world have fought the long defeat. I it was who first summoned the White Council. And if my designs had not gone amiss, it would have been governed by Gandalf the Grey, and then mayhap things would have gone otherwise. But even now there is hope left. I will not give you counsel saying do this, or do that. For not in doing or contriving, nor in choosing between the course and another, can I avail; but only in knowing what was and is, and in part also what shall be. But this I say to you; your Quest stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail, to the ruin of all. Yet, hope remains while the Company is true.”
She then held each of the Fellowship long in gaze, and none save Legolas or Aragorn could endure her burrowing stare. Even Mag couldn’t keep her eyes with hers, but she also felt she could not look away. Finally, Galadriel looked off, and smile at them.
“Do not let your hearts be troubled. Tonight, you shall sleep in peace.”
“Go now!’ Celeborn said. “You are worn with sorrow and much toil. Even if you Quest does not concern us closely, you should have refuge in this City, until you were healed and refreshed. Now you shall rest, and we will not speak of you further road for a while.”
A pavilion was set for the Company, and in it, were couches for each member to sleep on. Mag smiled as she heard Pippin whisper his appreciation to Merry that now they would be sleeping on the ground, instead of a flet.
They spoke much of what had happened over the days they’d been in Lorien; but no one spoke of Gandalf. The grief had resurfaced, as Aragorn had told Celeborn what had become of Mithrandir. Soft, melodious tunes floated through the air; sorrowful and grievous. Merry asked what it meant, and Mag sighed. This was more towards the movie.
“I have no the heart to tell you,” Legolas said, answering Merry’s question somberly. “For me the grief is still too near.”
Mag sat back on her patch of cushions, and closed her eyes. She began to sing along with the music, and everyone looked in her direction. Legolas was curious as to how she knew the song before it left the elf’s lips. But he said naught. He decided best let it be.
A Olorin I yaresse
Mentaner I Numeherui
Tiren I Romenori
Maiaron I Oiosalia
Manan elye etevanne
Norie I melanelye?
Mag sang like one of the elves, and the Fellowship was entranced by her singing. So she stopped. She didn’t want them to look at her the way they had been; like she was some sort of magical being, because she wasn’t.
Mithrandir, Mithrandir, O Pilgrim Grey!
Soon, talk turned to the Lady of the Golden Wood. They were speaking of how they’d been held in gaze by Galadriel, and how it made them feel. Boromir was wary of the Lady of the Galadhrim., but Aragorn warned her against his suspiciousness.
“What did you blush for, Sam?” asked Pippin with a wry look in his eye. “You soon broke down. Anyone would have thought you had a guilt conscience. I hope it was nothing worse than a wicked plot to steal one of my blankets.”
Mag smiled as Sam spoke, though he wasn’t in the mood for merriment. “I never thought no such thing. If you want to know, I felt as if I hadn’t got nothing on, and I didn’t like it. She seemed to be looking inside me and asking me what I would do if she gave me the chance of flying back home to the Shire to a nice little hole – with a bit of garden for my own.”
“That’s funny,” said Merry. “Almost exactly what I felt; only, only well, I don’t think I’ll say anymore.” And he didn’t. Mag understood. She too had felt like Galadriel had been looking right into her, and offering whatever it was she wanted most. But it was strange. What Magan wanted, that was. She was torn in two. Truthfully, she felt like she belonged home, and not here. And the other part wanted to stay there, in Lorien, for ever and all eternity, with someone she felt that she cared for very much, though she hadn’t seen him, for he’d departed to take watch back over the Nimrodel.
“What is it that she offered to you?” Legolas asked, and Mag snapped out from her trance. The elf had been staring at her for sometime, and Mag blushed. Then she shook her head.
“I don’t think I will tell.” She said simply, then got up, and walked off.
“Do not go too far!” called Aragorn after her. “You need rest, so do not tarry long!” and with that, the Ranger turned to sleep. Mag gave him a quick nod, and she went. She didn’t know where she was going, but the trees about her were so large and comforting, beautiful and grand, that she was lost in thought. What if she stayed there, in Lorien? The Fellowship did not need her, they would successfully complete the mission without her. Yes, that sounded nice. Stay in Lothlorien for all her days, until she grew old. But would the Lord and Lady permit it? And she dared say, it sounded rather traitorous to abandon the others now. She had to go on.
Mag looked back. “Legolas?” she called. She had the feeling of someone watching her. She shook it from her mind, and continued. There it was again; the burning sensation at the back of her skull. Again she turned.
“Legolas? What are you playing at? Come out where I can see you.”
Then, something dropped down from the tree above her. It was not Legolas, it was an elf, however. Tall, clad wholly in dark shadow gray. He walked over to her, with a smile of triumph across his lips.
“Haldir! What are you doing, spying on me?” Mag asked, harsher than she meant. “I thought you had gone back over to the Nimrodel… to watch? Why have you returned, is something wrong?”
“Nay, I was not spying on you.” Haldir assured. “I had intended to tell you I was here, but you seemed to peaceful and content, I hadn’t the heart to disturb you.”
“I see,” Mag nodded. “But why have you come here?”
“One of the sentinels reported someone straying into the woods, and to be wary. But it turned out to be no one straying in at all, someone straying out. You have gone very far from your company, lady.”
“Have I gone that far? I didn’t notice.” Mag sighed. “It is just so beautiful here. I feel as if I were in a dream, if you know what I mean.” She’d been around Sam way too long. “I wish I could stay here forever. You are lucky.”
“Indeed, I am very lucky to live in such wood. Till the end I would stay.” He seemed saddened, and Mag knew he thought of the time coming, the time when all would leave Lorien. “Why have you wandered from the Company?”
Mag shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t feel well. I just needed to… walk around. Clear my head.”
“You’ve many days to do so. You shall be here a while.”
“Yes,” Mag nodded. “though I already fear the day when we shall have to leave.”
Haldir smiled. “As do I. It has been long since such a…” but his words died in his throat. Mag’s eye brow rose, but she let it go. Haldir looked back up from his hands. “It is time you returned to your companions.”
Mag nodded, and turned to leave, but stopped. “Uh…” she looked hopelessly into the trees, and whimpered. “Could you show me the way back?”
Haldir nodded, and walked off, and she followed. When she returned, everyone was deep into sleep. Frodo’s head was buried deep into his blanket. Gimli snored loudly. Legolas laid on his back, his hands resting upon his breast, his eyes staring up, but this was just the way of the elves in their sleep; their eyes blended with morn and night.
“Good night,” Mag said softly. Before dashing off, Haldir bowed with a grin. Mag climbed onto her couch, and settled down. But, all was not as it seemed.
“And to where did you stray?” Legolas asked, looking over at her. Mag gasped, and the elf smiled at the surprise and shock in her facial expression. She threw one of her silk pillows at him, but he lightly blocked it.
“Must you do that?” Mag asked, faking her best angry expression. It melted away. “I mean, you look like the living dead, but…” she drifted off, thinking of what Legolas might have thought when she came back. And in fact, that was exactly what Legolas was thinking of. But of it, he said naught.
So, they were both quiet. Mag wasn’t sure if Legolas did go back to sleep or just looked like it, but she stayed up late into the night, gazing into the starry sky. The Fellowship around her rose at their own individual and desired times. Aragorn gave her a quizzical look, but also said nothing. Weary took over her in the afternoon, while the others were about the Galadhrim, talking and tale telling. She went to her couch near the fountain, and the rippling of the water helped her into sleep.
The days that came indeed gave Magan much time to think of her future. Not just if she was to stay there in Lothlorien, but also of what may happen if she never left Middle Earth. Perhaps stay in Hobbiton. She really didn’t mind the hobbits so much, they were good for a laugh in time of doubt. Maybe she would go to Gondor, under the rule of Aragorn. Or to Rivendell. Or to Mirkwood. There were so many different choices and possible paths.
Waking one day, she stretched, and saw that no one was there. It was late in the morning, but the air was still cool. Leaves tumbled this way and that through the air. She rose, and walked about. Ahead, she saw Legolas and Gimli talking, but she thought better of going and disturbing them. Quickly they were becoming friends, as was the path chosen for them. But what of her own path? Still it was not clear. And it would stay beneath a misted cloud, until later that night. As she went, she found herself again on the same path she’d been lost on days before. The wind was becoming more fierce, but she hardly noticed. As she went, rain began to pour, as if the wood too was saddened that the time of the Fellowship there was near to nothing. The droplets were cool and sweet, and plastered Mag’s hair to her face. Gleefully, she twirled about in the grass, but stopped suddenly when a bolt of lightning pierced the evening air, and broke the sky. She looked up, frozen in fear, as it had caught her so off guard. Thunder rolled, and Mag looked behind herself. In her merriment, she’d gotten impossibly lost. She turned to go, but all the trees seemed the same. Then, more lightning came, and she dashed off. The rain grew thicker. It blinded her sight.
“AH!” she gasped, as she fell, the grass slippery. She looked at her foot, and a thin line of red appeared, the grass sharp. She was stunned. She thought it not possible bleed here. But she also thought feeling beyond joy was impossible, but she was frightened. Pushing away the fear, she got up, and dashed in the direction before her. She ran for a long time, warm blood trickling down her leg. Mag didn’t know where she was going, but she kept going. Very suddenly, a hand caught hers, and pulled her in.
“Haldir!” Mag cried in relief, as she rested her head on his chest. Both of them were very wet, and cold. Mag’s teeth chattered violently, but she tried to keep her mind focused on the steady heart beat against her ear. Finally, Haldir stood back, and pulled her through the wood. Mag followed, not sure where they were going. The rain was still thick when they arrived at their destination. It was a gazebo-type building of white pillars. Inside was a fire place, and there were chairs about, a table. Mag went in, and took a deep gasp of the free air, as the rain had been so vicious she hadn’t been able to get much air to her lungs.
“Thank you.” Mag said, and she gathered her hair together, and rung out the water. Haldir watched the water drip down, then noticed the blood coming down her leg, swirling and mixing with the rain on the floor.
“You are hurt.” Haldir said, looking back up. Mag shrugged.
“Not much.” She said, but Haldir led her in front of the fire, went to a desk near by, and came back with a smoke-gray cloth. He sat by her, unrolled the handkerchief, and with an urn he’d brought also, he cleaned the mud from the wound, and then wrapped the scarf around the upper part of her leg. The blood stopped completely, and the little bit of pain, though it wasn’t much, left her leg.
“There.” Haldir looked up, even if his expression was doubtful. “I am not much of a healer, but it shall have to do.”
Mag nodded. “It’s better than what I could have done.” She smiled, then began to rub her arms, trying to get warm. Her clothes weren’t the warmest — it was the same change of clothes she’d worn the whole journey. A black, thin hoodie and green capris. Very odd, as many had pointed out, for that time period, or that land.
Haldir went to the fireplace, and passed his hand over it. Red, fiery flames flickered up, and heart burst from the hearth. Mag let a little sniffle and sat down by the fire. Haldir gracefully joined her, and they looked at eachother for a while.
“Well, this isn’t the first time you’ve come to be my knight in shining armor. How come you’re always around when times is screwiest?”
Haldir thought about this for a while. “If you did not get into so much trouble, then maybe I would not have to rescue you.”
“Mmm,” Mag nodded. “Maybe.”
They were quiet for a while, and while Haldir gazed into the fire, Mag watched him. He was just so… she didn’t have a word to express her feelings for him. She… felt for him. It was more than she’d felt for anyone she’d met one Middle Earth yet. In the beginning, she thought perhaps she’d taking a liking to Legolas, but later in the journey, she’d found that he was more of a close friend, maybe a brother. Mag sighed, knowing Haldir couldn’t possibly feel that way for her. But he turned to her, and took her hand in his, and held it to his lips, and Mag’s eyes grew larger.
“I am a fool to think that such a beautiful flower is not yet belonging to a man, but I must ask…” he seemed to get this out with much trouble, and he mumbled the rest, but Mag got the just of it. She felt a chuckle leave her chest, and Haldir blushed.
“No, Haldir. I’m not with anyone.” She said. She longed to ask why, but then, that would seem rather foolish. It was obvious. Still.
Haldir looked up. “I never imagined I would find anything, let alone anyone, that would captivate my mind and my heart as much as thou. It was as though…” he thought of something that would express himself, even if he didn’t think words could to it properly. “as though I’d been living in dark, and then through the black shone a lone star, enough to chase away the shadow. You.” Haldir brushed away some of Mag’s damp hair from her face, and she looked away. This was impossible.
“What is it?” asked Haldir, though his face gave away his thoughts.
“Haldir… no… wait…” Mag stood up as Haldir began to leave. The water was still thick, but he seemed too disappointed, it was as if he’d been denied the thing he desired most. He stopped and looked back. Mag went up to him.
“You can’t go out there! It’s still raining horribly, and…” she looked down. “It’s not you, Haldir. It’s me.” She looked back up from her hands. “Don’t think that I don’t like you. You’re wonderful. And the first guy that has, well, seen me like you have. No one has seen me like a… star. Or a flower. Probably just a nuisance.”
“I cannot see how that is possible.” Haldir said. “Any man or elf to over look you so is a fool.”
“I…” Mag was lost for words. She wanted to jump into his arms, but this couldn’t be. They were so different, and from completely different worlds. She wanted to save herself the heartache. Save Haldir from it. “Haldir, I really do like you. And to stay here, with you, would be… beyond my deepest dreams. But… we are so very different. Some things about which I cannot even begin to explain. I don’t fully understand it.” She mulled over how, and why, she’d come to Middle Earth. All she remembered was waking in the Brunine, being taken to Rivendell, then going unconscious again. No one told her why this was. How it came to be. Why was she even in Middle Earth? No answer to this question could be good.
“Understand what?” Haldir asked, not fully understanding Magan’s thoughts. She shook her head and smiled, which seemed good enough for the elf, for the moment.
“Nothing. It’s nothing.”
“What is nothing? And explain to me why we cannot be with one another. If you are worried about hurting me in your departure, it would hurt me more to know that you cared not for I as I do for you, or openly we could express our love.”
“It’s none of those. Well, yes, it is. Haldir…” she took a gulp of air. “I don’t know how much longer I have in this world. Unlike you, I am a human. A mere mortal. You are an elf. Forever. Pure. Humans are so different. Corruptive and… dishonest. Well, I am.”
Haldir shook his head. “No, you are not. And try not to make excuses. I will love you, whether we are together, or I remain here, and you are taken from me to… some strange distant place.”
Mag thought about this. Haldir continued. “If this was true love, then our separation would be… like a test. A test to see if our hearts proved true.”
“I never was too great at tests,” Mag said with a tsk. But she at last gave a final sigh, and her heart brightened. Maybe, even in the world of Tolkien which so far had proven incredibly dark and dim, this wasn’t so impractical. He was so willing to give this a try, why not she? Haldir saw the shadow in her eyes dissolve, and he tilted his head in puzzlement, though his heart knew. Mag was smaller than he, and she raised herself on her toes, as they shared a long kiss. When they pulled away, all Magan’s doubt melted away. She was almost tearful in her joy. This could work.
They spoke much through the night, the rain eventually lifted, but the air became cool. As they stared into the fire, a clear blast from a horn came, and both were stirred. Simultaneously they stood, and looked in the direction of the ringing.
“What is it?” Mag asked, looking at the elf with concern.
“You are being called.” He said with the slightest hint of remorse. Mag nodded, and Haldir showed her to where she had to go. They went quickly, and arrived at the Celeborn’s chambers.