Only one word- just one word from the millions of vocabulary terms we have back on earth- can properly describe Lothlorien. Enchanting. The trees of Lorien are thick and tall, seeming to reach all the way up to the now darkening sky and touch the stars that have begun to shine. These aren’t just any ole trees, either. They are what I remember to be called Mallorn trees. Each has silver bark that seems to glow faintly in the darkness of the night and ethereal golden leaves that cover the top of the forest like an angelic golden canopy. Several intricately made stairways weave up into the trees from their starting points on the forest ground. Many elves, each as beautiful and fascinating as the first ones I saw, pass by Lady Galadriel, Haldir, and I. Their eyes scrutinize me with curiosity and wonder, and they each pause for a moment and stare confusedly before continuing on their way. My cheeks flush scarlet in embarrassment. I hate being the center of attention.
Lady Galadriel turns to me and gives me a reassuring smile as I continue to follow her to who-knows-where. I give her a small smile back, barely a twitch of my lips. Anxiety overwhelms me because of the many stares, and I wish that I could just turn into a shadow and pass unseen through the trees. I’m sure I look very out of place despite my new elven body. After all, the other female elves are wearing long, grand dresses that flow behind them as they walk; whereas, I woke up in the forest in a silky tunic, pants that fit me snugly like leggings, and soft-soled boots. I woke up in Middle Earth; the least someone could do is give me some decent clothes. Or some instructions on what to do.
Galadriel leads me to a set of stairs and stops suddenly, turning to look at me with her piercing gaze. Her eyes flick from me to Haldir after a moment before she says, “Haldir, please inform Arneth that her presence is needed immediately.” Haldir bows, and with one last fleeting glance at me, he hurries away to carry out her orders.
After he is out of sight, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Haldir is very, very intimidating. I turn to look at Galadriel in confusion when she laughs lightly. “You seem relieved that the captain of the guard is gone,” she observes. Her smile is brilliant as she continues to laugh lightly, and her eyes crinkle up in amusement as she gazes at me.
' I smile sheepishly. “Yes, my lady,” I say to her before whispering lowly, “Honestly, I am sure his eyes could cut through stone.”
Her laugh becomes slightly louder at my observation, yet it stays very low still. I wonder if elves only ever use their ‘inside voices.’
Once her laughter dies down some, she answers me. “Yes, I have thought that many times myself. Haldir may seem cold and distant to begin with, but he is very kind and caring under his facade of indifference,” her expression then becomes thoughtful as she studies me with a small, knowing smile, “I am sure you will both become close friends.”
I smile and nod, but in my mind, I am not so sure. I do not think Haldir is the type of person who would want to befriend me. He seems very hostile, and from our earlier encounter, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t like me. After all, he would not have hesitated to kill me had Galadriel not shown up.
“Lady Galadriel, Haldir said that you called for me,” a shy voice suddenly says from behind me. I turn and see a female elf standing there, staring expectantly up at Galadriel. Her hair is braided back away from her face, small wisps of her chocolate colored hair falling into her face. She looks to be about twelve or thirteen years old, but her pointed ears remind me that she is probably hundreds of years older than me. She stands about two heads smaller than me in height, and she has her hands clasped nervously in front of her as she waits for Galadriel to say something. I notice immediately that her dress is not as fancy or elaborate as the ones of the other elleth I have seen, and I assume she must be a servant. The dress is much nicer than anything I have ever seen, but it lacks the decorations that I’ve seen on others. The pale blue color of the fabric suits her pale, glossy skin perfectly.
“Arneth, will you please show our guest to her chambers? FInd her a nice dress to wear, also,” Lady Galadriel orders in a light tone of voice, gesturing to me with her hand.
The girl curtsies, “Of course, my lady.” She then turns to me, and without meeting my curious gaze, she gestures for me to follow her. My feet begin to move, and I follow her away from the stairway. She silently leads me over several walkways that bring us higher and higher into the trees. Normally, I would be frightened of how high up we are, but my brain is too focused on the beauty around me.
We come to a large oak door and Arneth suddenly stops and opens the door lightly. “You may enter first, my lady,” she says shyly. I step into the room and gasp in awe. The room is breathtaking. Only elves could create such magnificence. The room is much like a tree house, but more beautiful and extravagant. The silk curtains hanging from the windows match the violet purple color of the silk blankets draped across the bed that sits in the middle of the room. The bed looks soft, as if it was woven from the wisps of a cloud, and I fight the urge to run and jump onto it. Instead, I softly move toward the translucent glass doors in the room that lead to a balcony over looking the forest of Lothlorien. My heart fills with happiness as I look out into the night.
“Are these chambers to your liking, my lady?” I jump slightly at Arneth’s voice. For a moment, I had forgotten she was here.
“Oh yes,” I say airily as I turn to look at her, a wide smile on my face.
She finally meets my gaze for the first time, and I almost gasp. Her eyes are a startling shade of blue. The icy depths of her eyes seem to glow faintly. They are mesmerizing. “Come. If you like your bedroom, then you will definitely love your bathing room,” she says with an excited smile. I follow her deeper into my chambers.
On the left wall of my bedroom, there is a large oak door that closely resembles the one leading to my room. Arneth opens the door and, once again, gestures for me to walk inside before her. I step through the door frame quickly, excited to see what could possibly be better than my extraordinary new room. Upon entering, I stop in my tracks and my jaw drops in disbelief. There, in the middle of the small room, is a bubbling, gurgling hot spring.How the elves managed to create a small spring in a room that is hundreds of feet in the air, I will never understand, but in the spur of the moment, I can only gape in disbelief. The entire room is created to look as if I am in the forest at night time. The walls are painted to look specifically like the gorgeous Mallorn trees that populate Lothlorien, and the floor has this strange, green carpet-type stuff on it that feels almost exactly like walking on soft grass. The ceiling has a mural of the night sky filled with brilliant stars painted on it. Now, the artwork doesn’t look painted, nor does the carpet stuff look or feel fake. It is as if I am literally standing outside and looking at the scenery around me. The room even smells like the forest which, in case you didn’t know, smells like Heaven.
Elves would make killer interior designers back on earth.
Arneth walks up to stand beside me, giggling girlishly at my astonishment. “Do you like it, my lady?” she asks in a teasing voice.
“Arneth,” I barely whisper the words, “Elves… are brilliant.”
She looks at me strangely for a moment. “Well, yes, I would say so, my lady.”
My eyebrows scrunch together in confusion at her expression. Then I understand. She doesn’t know that I am from a different world. Apparently, elves don’t gloat about their talents or race. I smile awkwardly at her, feeling embarrassed at my stupid statement.
She clears her throat. “How about we find you a proper dress to wear?” she asks but she is already out of the bathing room before I can respond, “I think the color green will suit you very nicely.”
I follow her back into my room and watch as she digs through my new wardrobe for a dress. “Or maybe blue? Ah, but green will match your eyes so perfectly! Well, only if it’s the right shade of green. Oh, the yellow is great, too! It would go perfectly with your red hair…” she continues to ramble on as she sorts through many dresses, but I tune her out.
I walk slowly over to the balcony and open the door. I step out onto the large balcony, sighing contentedly as a light breeze caresses my skin and runs its fingers through my curly, fiery red hair. I place my hands on the white railing in front of me and look out into the forest. I take in the sight of other elves traveling around the forest ground below and wonder how great their lives must be. I watch as they laugh together and tease each other, somehow looking like angels whilst they do so. My gaze lands on one couple particularly. The male looks at the female in a way I’ve only ever dreamed of being looked at. It’s as if she holds his entire world, his heart, and his soul in the palm of her delicate, petite hand. The female gazes up at him, her eyes reflecting the pure and raw love she has for him, and a stab of pain shoots through my heart.
My fingers shoot up to my cheeks in surprise when I realize that there are tears running down them. The pain in my heart doesn’t go away, either. I quickly look away from the couple in hopes that the pain and sorrow will go away, but the emotions stick in my heart. I suck in a deep breath. I… I want a romance like that. Another tear falls down my cheek. I don’t have any experience with love, though.
I wipe away the last tear from my cheek, feeling incredibly silly, and change the course of my thoughts. The race of elves is so fascinating. They are so patient, so graceful, and so perfect. I now have an elven body, but I feel exactly the same as I always have, minus cancer. I don’t feel extraordinarily beautiful or graceful, and I definitely don’t possess the patience of the elves. Arneth seems so young, yet she is more refined and polite than I am! I have no idea what I am doing.
“Oh!” I whip around to look at Arneth when she suddenly gasps. “This dress is perfect!”
She quickly gestures for me to come to her, and I do so. I stop warily in front of her, and she holds the dress up to my body. She then smiles brilliantly, “Oh yes, this will look great, my lady. Please put this on, and then I will escort you to dinner.” She bows her head as a sign of respect before exiting the room.
I sigh and began to undress. I slowly pull the tunic over my head and slip the silky trousers down my smooth, pale legs after slipping off my boots. I then pull the dress on, gasping appreciatively at the feel of the light and silky fabric of the green dress. I hesitantly step up to the mirror by my wardrobe.
I do not recognize the female staring back at me.
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After I had gotten dressed, Arneth escorted me back to the pavilion we had been at earlier. Lady Galadriel had been there with an ellon who she introduced me to as her husband Lord Celeborn. He was very intimidating (like all the elves I’ve seen so far seem to be), but he was kind to me even though I must seem strange.
Together, they both escorted me to the dining halls of Lothlorien for the night’s meal. Now, I felt awkward upon first entering Lothlorien when elves were staring, but nothing compared to this. Lady Galadriel had me sit beside her at the end of an enormous table filled with elves, and she thought it a great idea to introduce me to the entire kingdom. She made me stand up in front of everyone, and in all honesty, I’m surprised I did not faint. I could’ve sworn I almost went into panic attack mode, as I used to do in my former life when anxiety overwhelmed me, but somehow, with Galadriel smiling at me as a mother would to her daughter, I was fine.
Supper was highly uncomfortable for me. I tried to eat my meal, but elves constantly came up to me in order to introduce themselves. They were all very sincere in their welcoming me to Lothlorien, but like I have said before, I am very, very shy. I tried to remember each of their names, but right after they would walk away, I forgot them.
After supper, Lady Galadriel had asked me to follow her. I did as she asked, confusion sweeping my mind as she led me to a small clearing in the forest. On one side of the clearing, there was a white stone staircase that was worn with wind and rain damage even though I can scarcely imagine bad weather in Lothlorien. In the middle of the clearing was a silver basin. I walk to the basin and stare at it in wonder.
Lady Galadriel descends the stairs that I came down to enter the small forest clearing. “Would you like to look in the mirror?” she asks me seriously as she makes her way over to me.
I look back at the basin with wide eyes, now remembering it to be the Mirror of Galadriel. “What will I see?” I ask her, though I have a pretty good idea that what I will see won’t be good. Frodo saw some pretty disturbing things in The Lord of the Rings.
“I cannot say, for I myself, do not know. This mirror shows what the future may hold, events that have already taken place, or things that are happening now, “ She replies slowly as she steps in front of the silver basin. Her gaze pierces into mine intensely, “Will you not look into the mirror?”
I look down for a moment, hesitant to possibly know my future. What if it’s really bad, like, killed by orcs or rotting away in a prison cell in a kingdom somewhere, bad? Do I really want to know my future? I don’t want to live in fear of it.
I finally look up and meet her prying gaze. “I will look, my lady,” I whisper.
She nods with an accepting smile on her face and picks up a pitcher of water, pouring it into the basin. She gestures for me to come forward. I take a step towards the mirror, but for some reason, I suddenly feel an overwhelming feeling in my heart. It’s as if I am feeling someone else’s emotions… a male’s. The emotions arestrong, and I have trouble deciding what they are for a moment. Passion… happiness… elation… love? Maybe. My gaze leaves Galadriel for a moment and flickers to the outskirts of the clearing. I have a prominent feeling of being watched, but when I look, I see nothing… no one. But there’s this strange pull, as if something is willing me to see the unseen, as if someone is there but I cannot see them. It’s as if the answer to all of my problems is there, watching me, yet I cannot see it… him.
I turn my gaze back toward the mirror when it suddenly starts to glow, forgetting all about my strange encounter with the unseen force, and I brace my hands on either side of the basin, watching as an image begins to form in the shallow water. The image of an elven woman suddenly appears before my eyes. Her eyes are a startling blue color, and her long, flame colored hair is tied behind her head in several intricate braids. She smiles radiantly, affectionately down at a small bundle she has tucked in her arms. A baby stares up at her curiously from within the bundle in her arms with wide, bright green eyes, and it gurgles happily as it reaches up to the lady with its tiny fists. The baby has thin, fiery red hair tangled in curls on the top of its head.
A man suddenly enters the image, and I instantly notice his eyes. They are a brilliant, startling green color that contrasts sharply with the handsome features of his face. His eyes look exactly like mine. His hair is a deep brown color that resembles the bark of the pine trees back home. He chuckles deeply as he comes to stand behind his small, delicate wife, wrapping his strong arms around her waist and resting his chin on her shoulder. His affectionate smile matches that of his wife as he gazes warmly down at the baby.
“She is beautiful, just like you,” he whispers to his wife. His eyes stay glued on the baby as he speaks.
Soft, melodic laughter fills the room as the lady smiles amusedly at her husband’s words. “She has your eyes, my love.”
“She has your fiery hair, Hithaeriel, which means she has most likely inherited your fiery temper,” he observes teasingly.
The lady, Hithaeriel laughs brightly as her husband’s arms tighten around her small waist. Joyable, companionable silence fills the room for a few moments before the lady suddenly whispers whilst her daughters tiny fingers wrap around her forefinger, “She will be so beautiful when she is grown. She will do great things, our little Eilonwy.”
The scene then changes.
“Edwemen!” Hithaeriel calls to her husband sharply, “I will not leave you!” Her dress is torn in several places, dirt smeared on her pale skin, tears streaming down her face.
The sounds of screaming and swords clashing can be heard. “Go! Save Eilonwy! Her life must be spared, my love. You know this,” her husband demands as he suddenly appears beside her, looking battle worn and weary. His dark brown hair is unbraided, falling down his back and shoulders and sticking to his neck and face due to the sheen of sweat on his skin. His sorrowful eyes stare at his wife with intense urgency.
She shakes her head fiercely, her once bright blue eyes now dull and full of terror. “I cannot,” she manages to breath out before sobs begin to rack her shaking form, “I cannot leave you! Eilonwy needs us both! I cannot raise her on my own if you die! I cannot live without you!”
Edwemen grabs his wife’s arm with one hand, his other holding a gleaming sword with streaks of blood on it. His wife clutches the small, crying baby to her chest tightly as she stares at her husband wordlessly, sobs escaping her lips and tears torrenting down her cheeks.
“Listen, my love,” Edwemen says seriously, “I will be perfectly fine, you’ll see. Right now, I need you to get to safety. I will meet you in Rivendell. Run as quickly as you can until you are safely over the river Bruinen. Lord Elrond will know what to do.” The screams of people become louder, and in the background of the scene, many elves are running, all looking terrified and weary.
His wife continues to cry. “Hithaeriel, are you listening to me? I will meet you in Rivendell, I promise. Then we will live a happy life there, free from pain and suffering. We will both get to watch our Eilonwy grow into a beautiful elleth. Everything will be fine. But you must go now.”
He leans in and presses a desperate kiss to his wife’s lips. When he pulls away, his wife only looks slightly calmer. She wordlessly understands that her husband’s words are only meant as a comfort, a hopeless dream to cling to. He will not be joining them in Rivendell. The kiss is a goodbye.
She finally nods, “Yes. Yes, I understand. I will meet you there.” Her voice breaks on the last word as more tears pour down her dirt-smudged cheeks. Her blue eyes flick down to her child for a moment before meeting her husband’s gaze once again. “We will meet you there,” she whispers, “I love you.”
A tear slides down her husband’s cheek for the first time, and he kisses her again, deeply and passionately this time. When he pulls away, he kisses the forehead of his daughter as more tears stream down his face. “And you, my dear Eilonwy, stay safe for Ada. Stay strong. I love you more than you will ever know, my child,” he whispers, his voice breaking as he slowly loses his composure.
And then his wife turns and begins to run through the forest, leaving her husband far behind.
The scene changes once again.
The same small babe from the earlier images lies under the cover of several thick bushes, wrapped in a soft, pink blanket. It is obvious that someone laid her there in order for her not to be found by someone, or something. Fat tears roll effortlessly down the baby’s smooth, pale cheeks, the green of her eyes seeming to become brighter due to the red hue around her crying eyes. Her soft cries slice through the silence of the forest around her.
A body lies motionless several feet away from the baby’s hiding place, and as the direction of the image becomes closer to the body, I realise it is Hithaeriel. Her fiery hair lies tangled around her face, leaves from the forest ground stuck in the once luxurious curls. Her body is completely still, no signs of breathing. No signs of life. Her icy eyes stare unseeingly up at the ironically colored bright blue sky. Her skin is a different pale color than the natural shade of skin that elves have. It is a cold pale. The color of death. Blood is smeared across her abdomen and across the forest floor around her. A large, open wound can be seen on her stomach, but the blood is not oozing, showing that she must have been dead for several hours.
Suddenly, the sound of horse hooves can be heard, the drumming pattern mixing with the elfling’s cries. The horses come into view after a few moments, and several elves sit astride them. The males have dark brown hair, something I haven’t seen in Lothlorien. They come to a halt when they spot the body of Hithaeriel, and they quickly jump from their horses to check the body for any signs of life. The baby’s cries cease for the moment.
Two dark haired elves, perfectly identical to one another, look at each other in solemn silence once they realize that the elleth is dead. The other elves make a gesture with their hands that must be a silent prayer for the deceased elleth.
“Elladan,” one of the twin elves addresses the other, “We need to take her body to Rivendell. She deserves a proper burial and funeral service.”
Elladan nods solemnly, his eyes still trained on the motionless woman.
The baby’s cries suddenly begin once again, more hysterical this time, whether from fear or hunger, I am not sure. The other twin stands and pushes his way through the other elves, making his way to the bush where the baby lay. He picks her up carefully in his strong arms, sadness pooling in his silver colored eyes. He shushes the baby softly, trying to quieten her cries. His gaze locks with his brother’s.
Elladan turns to the others and clears his throat, seeming to be trying to will away tears of grief. “We ride for Rivendell,” he commands in a clear, demanding voice. The others quickly mount their horses, and Elladan lifts the body of Hithaeriel onto his own horse, taking off his green cloak and wrapping it around her frail body. He looks down upon her still form for a moment, tears glistening in his eyes. It is evident that he knew this elleth. It is evident that he loved her.
The elf carrying the baby is already mounted on his horse. He guides his horse up beside his brother’s and rests his hand on his shoulder. “‘Dan,” he whispers so that the others cannot hear, “It is time to go.”
And with those words, the group of elves ride back through the forest, the way in which they came.
The scene shifts.
An elf almost exactly identical to the twins stares out the window of his study in deep thought. His gray eyes swim with infinite wisdom and knowledge. Lady Galadriel stands by a large bookshelf on the other side of the room, thumbing through a leather bound book. A knock on the door startles them both from their thoughts.
“Enter,” the ellon states in a low, intimidatingly deep voice.
The door opens and in walks the twin that found the baby, his arms filled with the bundle holding the small child. The older elf immediately stands from his desk and strides towards the twin, followed by Lady Galadriel.
“Adar, I am afraid I have come bearing terrible news,” the young ellon states as he glances down sorrowfully at the now smiling, gurgling baby. “We were patrolling the forest when we came across the body of-,” he stops as his voice breaks on the last word and tears spring to his eyes. He sighs and looks up at his father, “We found Hithaeriel in the forest, just past the river Bruinen. Elladan checked for any signs of life, but there were none. Her and Edwemen’s child was hidden in the thick underbrush several feet away from her body. She must’ve hidden her before the orcs caught up with them.”
Lady Galadriel stares at the baby in grief. “It is as I feared, Elrond,” she addresses the older male elf, “Eilonwy is in grave danger.”
The elf lord says nothing.
The twin looks up at Galadriel in shock. “What do you mean? She is safe here in Rivendell. Orcs cannot get past the borders.”
Galadriel holds up her hand to silence him. “Elrohir, your father and I have come to the conclusion that Eilonwy,” She motions towards the baby, “Is the elleth that an old prophecy was written about. Well, we figured the prophecy was about her when she was born, but now we have solid proof. She is in danger. The orcs didn’t come across her and her mother by chance. They were being hunted. If only we had known sooner.” She shakes her head sadly.
Elrohir stares at his father, who has remained silent the entire time, in horror. “How could you let this happen? You know that Elladan is in love with her! You just let her and possibly Edwemen be killed for nothing!” he yells as tears well up in his eyes once again.
Elrond glares sharply at his son. “Hold your tongue. I informed Hithaeriel and Edwemen about their child’s future. I spoke to them, telling them that Eilonwy would be safest here in Rivendell. They promised to send the child here when danger became prevalent. They knew the danger of keeping her with them, but they chose to keep her for as long as they could. Danger was upon them more quickly than they thought it would be.”
Silence wraps its claws around the three elves, each overwhelmed with grief and sadness for the loss of their dear friends. Galadriel is the first to break the silence after several moments. She looks at Elrond seriously before her gaze shifts to the small baby lying in Elrohir’s arms, staring up at her with wide, innocent green eyes, “It is time.”
The images change for the last time.
An incredibly handsome elf with long blonde hair falling down his back stands in front of me, his arms folded and leaning against the railing of a balcony in a place unfamiliar to me. Two strands of his silky hair on either side of his head are braided and tied together in the back. His brown colored tunic fits him perfectly, further defining the prominent muscles of his-what must be-strong arms. An image of myself comes into view behind him, my red and curly hair falling softly down to my waist. I wear a long, flowing pastel green dress with a silky sash tied around my waist. I notice the happiness in my eyes, the happiness that at this moment I cannot even imagine feeling, and I see a slight flush in my cheeks as I gaze upon the elf. My hands are clasped together in front of me as if I am nervous for some reason.
“After all this time, you still cannot manage to sneak up on me,” the blonde haired male suddenly states, his back still facing me. His voice is like silk, but better and… softer somehow. Really, there is no proper way to describe the way he speaks. He has the voice of an angel, and I feel my insides melt at the amused tone of his voice. I do not know him, nor have I met him before, but as I watch the scene unfold in the Mirror of Galadriel, my body reacts to him. My heart races suddenly, and my heart seems to be trying to make an escape from its place in my chest. For some reason, his voice seems familiar, as if I have heard it in my dreams many times. You know how, sometimes, when you wake up, you forget what you dreamt about but there’s still this weird feeling in your mind and heart that makes you cling to a distant image or a distant sound that you vaguely remember from the dream? That’s exactly how I feel when he speaks. I have heard his voice before. I am sure of it.
My eyes widen as I watch him turn around to look at me. The image in the mirror shows itself as if I’m looking through the eyes of someone who is standing right next to the illusional me, so I get a perfect view of him. His icy blue eyes could put even the most crystalline blue of oceans to shame. The features of his face look as if a master sculptor chiseled each detail of him perfectly, making no flaws or errors. He steps toward the image of myself, a wide, handsome smile on his lips.
A light laugh escapes the lips of my doppelganger as the elf takes my hands in his own. “There are a lot of things I still fail to do as an elf, Legolas,” I say.
My heart stops for a moment as the name pours from the lips of my mirror image. Legolas. My mind fails to comprehend what I am seeing. Waking up in Middle Earth after I died is a fact that is still sinking in to my brain because, c’mon, it’s very crazy sounding, but for some reason, I refuse to believe that this image, this vision, of Legolas and I could be real. I have loved the character of Legolas ever since I was little girl, not just because he was extremely gorgeous, but because he could kick butt with his archery skills and was loyal to his friends, also. I read countless fanfictions about this certain prince of the Woodland realm and daydreamed about how perfect it would be if he was actually real. Never in my life did I actually think he was alive and breathing in Middle Earth (nor did I believe Middle Earth was real).
He shakes his head as he pulls me closer to him. He reaches up with one hand and brushes his fingers tenderly across my now rosy cheek. “You are perfect,” he says in a quiet voice. My answering smile is enough to match the brightness of the sun when it’s at its highest peak in the sky.
The image fades and all that’s left to see is the still water of the basin.
I pull away from the mirror and look up at Galadriel. Her eyes snap to mine, but I do not miss the fact that her gaze was first looking away toward the trees as if she was concentrating on something… or again, someone.
“My lady, I-I…” I stutter out as I replay in my mind the things I saw in the mirror, “I am afraid that I do not understand what the mirror has shown me.”
Galadriel looks at me intently, “I understand that you are confused, for I saw what you did through your mind.”
I think of the green-eyed, red-haired elfling. I knew the moment I saw the baby that it was me. There is no mistaking it. “Has my entire life been… a lie? What was the point of me being raised in my own world when my fate was to live here? Was my death, my pain and my sorrow, all for nothing?” I ask as tears begin to fill my eyes.
“You were fated to live here, but it was for your own safety that you were sent to Earth. I will explain everything in due time, Eilonwy. Too much information at one time will overwhelm you.”
Pain slices through my heart when she addresses me by my real name. “My name was Evelyn in my world,” I say and sigh quietly, “Even my own name was a lie.”
Galadriel regards me with saddened eyes. “Go get some rest, my child. You have seen enough for one night. I will speak more on the matter with you in due time.”
I nod silently, and begin the trek back to my chambers. I guess that the elves are “early to bed, early to rise” people because I see no one else on my walk. I am glad there was no one around though because I tripped and fell several times. I definitely haven’t developed elven grace yet. I eventually find my way to my chambers after a long journey through the forest (It didn’t help that all of the small houses up in the trees look identical).
Once I was safely in my room, I searched through my wardrobe and found a nightgown. I sighed as I slipped my beautiful dress down my body before stepping into my nightgown. I’ll definitely miss my old t-shirt and checkered Aeropostale shorts that I slept in back home.
I pull back the silk covers on my new bed and lay down on the extraordinarily soft mattress. My body is so tired, but I can’t fall asleep. Everytime I close my eyes, I see the image of Hithaeriel, my real mother, lying motionlessly on the forest floor, covered in her own scarlet blood. I see the horror and sorrow in Elladan’s eyes as he looked upon my mother whom he was in love with. A tear rolls down my cheek, and my breath becomes shaky. Wherever they are now in the afterlife, I hope my real parents know that I am safe and eternally grateful to them.
When I do finally fall asleep, my last coherent thoughts are not of my parents nor Elladan, but of a certain exquisitely handsome ellon. Yes, you guessed it. Legolas. I cannot help it though. The same aura of emotions radiating from him in the dream matched the ones that I felt before looking into the Mirror of Galadriel. I cannot help but wonder if… maybe... in the clearing...
A tired sigh escapes my lips, and my head falls to the side.
The world of dreams takes me into its open arms.
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A/N: Thank you for reading!!!! Sorry for the wait! This chapter is ten pages, my lord I didn’t even notice! I hope the long chapter makes up for the wait. :)
Sorry if there are a lot of writing errors! I'll read over this tomorrow.
Please R&R! See y’all next chapter where we’ll drop in with Legolas for a while.
Much love,
Josie <3