Once Again I

Lady Of Light

Nymeria was captured by the beauty of Galadriel, her hair held a gold shone no less lovely than true gold. As she stood Nymeria it was shown that she was as tall as Celeborn, and no age was upon either of the rulers of Lórien except for in the depths of the eyes that were wells of memory. The silver headed Lord welcomed them in his own tongue, but the Lady said no word but looked upon each member of the Fellowship for a long time.


"Sit with me now, Frodo of the Shire." Celeborn spoke to Frodo. He then proceeded to call each greet each member of the Fellowship by name,"Aragorn son of Arathorn, it has been thirty-eight years since you came to this land." Aragorn sat by Celeborn, "Welcome son of Thranduil and welcome Gimli son of Gloin." Celeborn looked at Gimli,"It has been a long while since we have seen a folk of Durin in these lands. Today we have broken that law, may it be a sign that brighter days are ahead." Gimli bowed deeply then took a set by Legolas. Soon the whole of the company had been greeted and seated and Celeborn addressed the company again,


"The Enemy knows you have entered here. What hope you had in secrecy is now gone. Eight that are here yet nine there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him. I can no longer see him from afar." Galadriel's deep voice full of wisdom now spoke


"Gandalf fell into shadow, he remained in Moria and did not escape." The Elves in the halls cried out in grief and amazement


"These tidings are dark indeed." his strong brow,"Tell us now the full tale." Aragorn was the one to tell this tale, Celeborn's response to the new knowledge of the Balrog in Moria was to blame the Dwarves,


"We long have feared that under Caradhras a terror I known that the Dwarves had stirred up this evil in Moria again, I would have forbidden you to pass the northern border, 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 Mines of Moria." Galadriel was quick to correct him,


"Gandalf was rash, but needless were none of the deeds of Gandalf in life. We do not know yet his purpose." She turned her head to her husband, "Do not repent your welcome to the Dwarf." She looked to Gimli whose mind was steeped in sadness and smiled,"Do not let the great emptiness of Khazad-dûm fill your heart, Gimli, son of Glóin. For the world has grown full of peril. And in all lands, love is now mingled with grief." Gimli's dark eyes peered deep into hers, it seemed to him that he was looking into the heart of the enemy and there he as love and understanding. Wonder came over his face and he smiled; clumsily he rose from his seat and bowed in the Dwarvish-fashion, and said


"Fair is the living land of Lórien, and the Lady Galadriel is above all the jewels that lie beneath the earth." Galadriel smiled brightly at Gimli, but Celeborn was quick to change the subject.

"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 the burden." he looked to Frodo.


"The 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." Galadriel spoke, then with her eyes she held them, silently she searched within their minds. None could stand her gaze for but a moment, mind Legolas and Aragorn. As she looked as Sam he blushed and hung his head, Boromir's eyes swelled with tears and he faced away from her. Nymeria closed her eyes trying to escape her gaze. "Do not let your hearts be troubled. Go now and rest for you are weary with sorrow and much toil. Tonight you will sleep in peace…" Her voice trailed off and her eyes lingered upon Frodo.


"Go now," Celeborn commanded, "You are worn with sorrow and much toil, and you shall have refuge in this City, until you are healed and refreshed."


They, to the delight of the Hobbits, were to sleep upon the ground in front of the tree in which held the hall of the Lord and Lady. The Elves spread for them a pavilion near the fountain. Within it they laid soft couches, and with soft words in fair voices they left. For a while they talked of the night before, and of the day's journey. Pippin told the story of how Rúmil and Nymeria woke a very tired Sam up. Smile split the faces of the Fellowship, and from deep within Gimli's chest came a roar of laughter.


Then the conversation turned to of what they saw as Lady Galadriel looked into them.


"What did you blush for Sam?" Pippin asked, Sam furrowed his brow before answering,


"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-with a bit of garden of my own." Merry looked surprised.


"That's funny. Almost exactly what I felt myself only-only well, I don't think I'll say any more." He looked down to his feet he seemed very upset, Nymeria laid her hand upon his shoulder.

All, it would seem, had faced the same challenge. Galadriel had offered them all a choice between the shadow ahead, full of dark and unknown dangers, and something that their heart greatly desired. In order to receive what they had desired they had to turn away from the path that they were on, they would have to turn away from the Fellowship.


"And it seemed to me, too," said Gimli, "That my choice would remain secret and known only to myself." he was ashamed of his choice, she wondered what he was offered. Others made the same decisions to not tell. Nymeria was ashamed of her choice as well, so ashamed that tears ran from her green pools onto her cheeks.


"Nymeria," Aragorn had taken notice. He moved to the couch that she sat upon, and bent down upon his knees. "do not weep." He talked to her as if she were his daughter.


"She gave me the same choice, a choice between continuing upon this path and-and having my family live once again. I would say that I would keep my choice to myself, but I do think that it is obvious what I chose. I am sorry." She turned into Boromir who held her, Frodo then came and sat opposite to her. He took her hand in his,


"I know that I would have chosen the same." he said in hushed whispers. The voices of Elves began to ring from every tree, as soft song


A Olórin i yáresse

Mentaner i Númenherui

Tírien i Rómenóri

Maiaron i Oiosaila

Manan elye etevanne

Nórie i melanelye?

Mithrandir, Mithrandir, O Pilgrim Grey!

ú-reniathach i amar galen

I reniad lín ne mór, nuithannen

In gwidh ristennin, i fae narchannen

I lach Anor ed ardhon gwannen

Caled veleg, ethuiannen.


They sang of Gandalf, Nymeria knew this hearing the only line sung in the language of Westron 'O Pilgrim Grey.' No one had the heart to interrupt the song that echoed off of the trees. Aragorn and Nymeria had looked upwards to the place where the voices were calling from. Legolas was there, but she dare not ask in the midst of such a lovely song. Not that he would answer, he was saddened and grief was still near to him.


Slowly the soft sounds fell and and came to an end. Nymeria was sadder than before, but she did not wish to cry again. Frodo was the first to make a sound, he wished to put his grief into words. He sat by the fountain and started a song with a soft mummers. The words, in time, became audible,


When evening in the Shire was grey

his footsteps on the Hill were heard;

before the dawn he went away

on journey long without a word.

From Wilderland to Western shore,

from northern waste to southern hill,

through dragon-lair and hidden door

and darkling woods he walked at will.

With Dwarf and Hobbit, Elves and Men,

with mortal and immortal folk,

with bird on bough and beast in den,

in their own secret tongues he spoke.

A deadly sword, a healing hand,

a back that bent beneath its load;

a trumpet-voice, a burning brand,

a weary pilgrim on the road.

A lord of wisdom throned he sat,

swift in anger, quick to laugh;

an old man in a battered hat

who leaned upon a thorny staff.

He stood upon the bridge alone

and Fire and Shadow both defied;

his staff was broken on the stone,

in Khazad-dûm his wisdom died.


"Well, Mr. Frodo," Sam began, "if you plan to sing again, I do hope that you will mention something about his fireworks," he stood for a second in thought, "Something like this,"


The finest rockets ever seen:

they burst in stars of blue and green,

or after thunder golden showers

came falling like a rain of flowers.


He stopped and seemed disappointed with himself, "That does not do them justice by a long road." Nymeria wondered what the fireworks of Gandalf look like. She could only picture stars, stars the flew up and fizzled out. Aragorn had moved away from her to Boromir, she laid down on her side and faced away from the others.


"Take some rest. These borders are well protected." Aragorn spoke.


"I will find no rest here. I heard her voice inside my head. She spoke of my father and the fall of Gondor. She said to me, 'Even now, there is hope left.' But I cannot see it. It is long since we had any hope." Boromir's deep voice answered with great sorrow in it, "My father is a noble man, but his rule is failing. And now our-our people lose faith. He looks to me to make things right and I — I would do it. I would see the glory of Gondor restored." Nymeria wished to go to him at this moment and just hold him, perhaps to kiss him and tell him that she loved him, even it was not the truth. "Have you ever seen it Aragorn?" Boromir's voice was filled with nostalgia, "The White Tower of Ecthelion, glimmering like a spike of pearl and silver. Its banners caught high in the morning breeze. Have you ever been called home by the clear ringing of silver trumpets?"


"I have seen the White City, long ago." Aragorn's voice was far away, you could hear the love that he felt for the city.


"One day, our paths will lead us there. And the tower guard shall take up the call, 'The Lords of Gondor have returned!'" Boromir's voice was strong and full of a new hope. A soft wind whistled and the night covered her, guiding her into a deep sleep.


Boromir looked to the sleeping Nymeria, her shallow breaths moved her slender form ever so slightly. He thought about that kiss, and he silently cursed himself; she probably saw this as an insult. This action of his had destroyed any hope of winning her favor. Aragorn followed his eyes to her, he could see the love that Boromir held for her.


"You love her." Aragorn stated, Boromir's quick glance to meet his eyes held the answer.

"She could never feel the same for me." He looked to the ground, "I do not think that she desires a husband, she is a woman was not made to be tamed."


"Then do not tame her, love her." Aragorn cleaned the pipe that was in his mouth and placed it back into its case. He grabbed a soft blanket and cloaked Nymeria, she shifted wrapping herself in the soft fabric. Aragorn laid down upon a soft lounge, and rested his mind and body. Nymeria's eyes were moving behind her soft lavender eyelids, she was dreaming. Boromir hopped that the dreams were sweet, he went to her and touched he silken cheek. Then laid down the couch closest to her, when he closed his eyes he saw only her.



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