Silverhelm: A Tale of Two Enemies

Mirror, Mirror, In The... Water?

That night, as I lay awake, on my talan, remembering the events of the last sixty years, I heard light footfalls on the talan next ladder. Light footfalls, not of tall Men or clumsy Dwarves, but not light enough to be Legolas - a hobbit, then. Who could it be? Not Sam, he was snoring like a Balrog with a congested chest. I heard the dull thud of the ladder being let down. I sat up straight. The small figure was climbing down, off the talan. Whoever it was, did he not know that it was not safe to go off into woods alone at night?

Silently, I ran over the taut rope. Descending down the ladder without making a sound, I followed the figure. In the moonlight, I saw it was Frodo- I had thought it was Merry or Pippin. I followed Frodo to a moonlit clearing with a basin upon a pedestal in the center. I sighed with relief. Galadriel had summoned him here.

Soon enough, Galadriel herself came down the steps formed by tree roots, barefoot, her white dress glowing in the dark.

"Why- why have you brought me here?" Frodo stuttered.

"You have been called here, Ringbearer, to gaze upon the Mirror of Galadriel." Taking a silver jug, she filled it from the fountain nearby and poured it into the stone basin. Frodo awkwardly came forward. I watched, hidden in the trees.

"What will I see?" Frodo asked with a wavering voice.

"Even the wisest cannot tell. For the mirror shows many things. Things that are, things that were, and some things that have not yet come to pass," Galadriel replied in her melodic voice. Slowly, Frodo climbed onto the foot of the pedestal. I did not know what he saw, but it horrified him. He bent lower and lower, the Ring around his neck almost touching the surface of the water. Then he grabbed the Ring and fell back onto the grass.

"I know what it is you saw, for it is also in my mind. It is what will come to pass if you should fail. The Fellowship is breaking: it is already begun. He will try to take the Ring. You know of whom I speak. One by one, it will destroy them all."

"If you ask it of me, I will give you the Ring." Frodo held out his hand. In it sat the Ring. A band of plain gold, nothing more.

"You would give me the Ring freely..." Galadriel murmured. Her hand stretched out to it. "I do not deny that my heart has greatly desired this." Suddenly, she cast her hands out to her sides. "In place of a Dark Lord, you shall have a queen!" She towered over Frodo. Her hair billowed in an unseen wind, and she now wore a breastplate. "Not dark but beautiful and terrible as the dawn! Treacherous as the sea! Stronger than the foundations of the earth!" The glade became murky and green, as it underwater. Galadriel's voice was now deep and had a resonating quality to it. "All shall love me and despair!" Then the murky green light departed, and she became the Galadriel I had known. "But I pass the test. I will diminish, and go into the West, and remain Galadriel."

I let out a breath that I did not know I had been holding.

"I-I cannot do this alone," Frodo said.

"You are a Ringbearer, Frodo. To hold a Ring of Power is to be alone." For the first time, I saw a silver ring set with adamant on her finger. "This is Nenya, the Ring of Adamant, and I am its keeper. This task was appointed to you, and if you do not find a way, no one will."

"Then I know what I must do," Frodo said. "It's just... I'm afraid to do it." Galadriel bent down to look him in the eye.

"Even the smallest person can change the course of the future," she said. Soon Frodo went back to the talan.

"Come out of the branches, great-granddaughter.  Why do you hide in the shadows?" She turned to where I had been hiding. Turambar's sword. I climbed out, got slapped in the face by a branch, and tripped on a vine as I tried to free my feet. Shaking my head vigorously to dislodge any leaves, I stood up. Galadriel and I were exact opposites; while she was pristine and glowing, I had already ripped my new clothes, hand mud spattered on my tunic, and my hair was a rat's nest. Galadriel sighed, stepping closer to me. "Every time I see you, Lyrasael, you are in a worse state than the last, wearing dirty clothes, are hurt, and your hair is a rat's nest." She picked a twig out of my hair. "And you have leaves in your hair. How hard would it be to brush your hair for once?"

"At least Daelen didn't throw me into a river this time," I mumbled. Seeing Galadriel's raised eyebrows, I explained: "Daelen is my horse, a stallion from Rohan. He was the finest horse in the kingdom and the king Thengel would not let me leave with any lesser. Sixty years, and he still isn't tame. Whenever he sees the chance he throws me into a lake or river. Remember the thirteen dwarves?" She nodded elegantly. "Well, I showed up at the door dripping wet, with water-weed and an honest-to-Iluvatar fish in my hair, because Daelen threw me into the Baranduin." This seemed to amuse Galadriel.

"Lyrasael, will you look into the Mirror?" I sighed. I do not respond to fate, I create it. This had earned me the nickname Turambar in Rivendell because I never really care about fate and foresight. But I nodded. "Then come." I came nearer to the Mirror.

The water rippled. Then suddenly, I saw images. The first few were from the past. I was young, less than a hundred when Elladan and Elrohir took me into the woods for the first time... I saw orcs come out of the woods, my uncles sending me into the trees, me jumping down and slashing at an orc with my tiny knife. The image faded. In a clearing surrounded by burning trees, I stood over a black-haired dwarf's body, all that stood between him and an orc-pack led by Azog. The scene shifted. Thorin lay dead on a frozen waterfall. Driven by rage and grief, I hacked at the dead Azog. Feeling a hand on my shoulder, I turned around and saw it was Legolas, bow in hand, saying, "Enough." The scene shifted again. The images I now saw, I was not familiar with. Boromir swinging a sword at orcs, protecting Merry and Pippin, three arrows sticking out of his chest. Then, Legolas lying on the ground, dead. Agreeable. It ended with a haunting image of my broken body floating down a river, coming up against the shore.

I staggered back. Galadriel looked at me with concern. "Are-are these things unavoidable?" I clarified. "Will they happen no matter what?"

"Yes," Galadriel said. "You cannot change this fate." I had many more questions on my mind, but Galadriel said, "Your company will leave tomorrow. Rest now, and pray get some clean clothes on and brush your hair before you go."

I turned to go, then paused. "It is right of me to want to kill him?" She knew who I meant by him. This was the first time I had doubted my intentions.

"That you must figure out on your own," Galadriel replied. Having gotten my answer, I turned to go. "But know this, Lyrasael," she continued, raising her voice slightly. "You will never find love again while you hold this hatred in your heart."

I paused. "I don't want love," I whispered and went out of the clearing through the hole I had made in the shrubbery and started running. Jumping over logs and ducking under branches, I pondered what she had said. When I came to the talan, the rope ladder was up, so I climbed the tree to the men's talan, which was below mine. Quietly stepping over the sleeping bodies, resting without fear after so long, I came to the ladder-bridge-rope thingy that went to my talan.

Unknown to me, in a dark corner, a certain blond elf paused in the braiding of his long hair and watched me climb.

So it looks like Lyrasael is developing a conscience. I kinda wanted to write her as a heartless warrior filled with hatred, but with a soft spot. So what do you think of Legolas watching her in the dark? FYI, I have written down the story till they leave for Helm's Deep. Tell me if you want to see anything! A vote a day makes Sauron go away!