Thalion Faer, Doltha Hún

We had spent two nights in the beauty and safety of Lothlórien. The promises of rest were duly fulfilled, the Fellowship having been invited to glorious feasts of immeasurable plentitude and allotted much time for sleep. Although, I did not think that many found much sleep here. For one reason or another, sleep was disturbed for all by some pecking thought. This disrupted sleep, however when sleep did grace us it was a deep slumber like no other.

I had not seen Lady Galadriel or Lord Celeborn since the first night, and had sought solitude from the others. Occasionally I would spend time with the hobbits, to tend to them in any way that I could. To the best of my abilities I tried to lighten their spirits, but it proved an exceedingly difficult task—mostly for the hobbit I wished to console most, Frodo. It was clearly visible that between Gandalf’s passing and the baring of the ring, he was growing weak beyond the aid of sleep or food.

It was almost impossible for me to fathom how such a little creature could withstand the horror of the ring. Even within the confines of a place as pure as Lothlórien, the ring was able to stretch out its devastating grip to those surrounding it. On multiple meetings with the huddle of hobbits, the ring’s tempting whispers coaxed me dangerously close the line separating slight deviation and major devastation. I was blessed to have whatever strength resided within me, and it was a worrisome prospect; that a corner of Sauron’s spirit could warp my thoughts so easily and nearly unnoticeably.

On the third morning I awoke to gentle whispers of my name and a familiar wake-up call. Thin fingers were dancing in circles on the top of my hand, which lay, as usual, clasped around the hilt of my sword. I smiled, breaking my sleeping façade and parted my lids to meet eyes with Legolas. He smiled, stroking the stray hairs out of my face and wrapping his hand in mine.

“I have a surprise for you.” He whispered. It was hard to judge time in Lothlórien, the daytime all looking the same; not that one cared much after a brief time in its beautiful confines.

“A surprise?” My slurred speech was evidence of the sleep still laced into my body. Legolas nodded once, gently urging me forward by tugging on my hand. I arched my back, stretching the muscles, before quietly slipping out of my covers and allowing him to lead the way. Aloud, I asked what time it was.

“It is not yet dawn, but by dawn the others will be awake and we will have to depart.” His volume was quiet, even as we inched away from the sleeping Fellowship. The only noise came from the wind softly nudging the golden leaves, dislodging them and sending them spiraling downwards in a blissful snow; and my (mostly) human feet crunching heavily into the earth. Legolas, as usual, was silent.

He led me carefully on some path that only he knew, twisting past some trees as if they were marked. There was a gentle breeze pushing my hair back slightly and the birds were beginning to sing; even they seemed more magical here. Half of me imagined that any orc that entered Lothlórien would be halted in their steps and cast into a trance from the unsurpassable magnificence of this land; but then, of course, they would be swiftly disposed of by Lothlórien’s finest. The image made me giggle.

At last Legolas stopped, and we were in a meadow of sorts. The grass was shorter, though, and the absent trees provided a wonderful clearing. In the distance, the sun was beginning to break through the leaves and branches; the glow turning everything dreamy once more. Legolas released me and withdrew the daggers that were so similar to mine, urging me to do the same. Flashing a smile, he backed away.

Haldir, Rúmil and Orophin suddenly dropped from the trees onto the ground around me, and the four elves had caged me in. Legolas released a small laugh as a grin grew on my face. The most perfect distraction, a blessing; I was going to fight them. Stepping forward, Haldir bore a long Elven sword in one hand and a calm expression was painted on his face.

“The Lady has bid me to help you with this task, in a way that most others cannot.” He spoke serenely and kindly, putting me even further at ease; although the prospect of a fight had fully woke me up. “Legolas will tell you a story, and it is your duty to hear and retain each word.” I nodded, and Haldir signaled for Legolas to begin.

“You are eighteen, young but wise—for a mortal. You are walking through a dark forest with one far superiorly skilled than you, clinging to him as you inch along the half-hidden path.” I smiled at the memory, for this was one of the infamous adventures of Vanya and Legolas through the unforgiving land of Mirkwood.

“Focus.” Haldir murmured, touching my arm. I was preparing a remark for Legolas, but my mind was stolen by another vision. Before I could register anything within my mind, it ended. “Do not fight it with fear, succumb to it Vanya. Let it teach you.”

Nodding, I did my best to rid myself of all fear and apprehension. Haldir once more touched my arm, and I inhaled the feeling, the vision itself. Splashing into life, I saw boats and a river and a waterfall and—

“I tell you how foolish it is to be afraid—” Legolas’ voice rips me from the vision, causing me to stumble slightly. Haldir pushes his hand to me again, harder this time, and the waterfall is before me again. I do my best to give in, let it take me over. “Because I am with you and I can defeat any enemy that comes my way—” I hear his voice and the splashing water, I feel the cool Lothlórien air and the mist coming from the falls, I smell the forest floor and the sandy beach I am approaching. More pressure on my arm. “But in truth—” The boat lurches as it slams into the sand. “I was just as frightened, for I too was lost.”

In this one unprecedented moment, my world, my being shifts. I am no longer seeing the beach; I am no longer seeing Legolas. Not properly, at least. Instead my vision is dark, and in the darkness I see groups of tiny flickering lights. Slowly, I spin and count four groups. Four figures. The lights are bright and a mixture of gold, yellow, silver, and white. There are no faces, no real shapes, but somehow I know that the one directly in front of me is smiling; content. The one touching my arm slowly retracts its grasp, inhaling with pride.

“Draw your weapons, Vanya.” I hear the figure beside me say. My conscious mind catches up and I remember this is Haldir speaking. In front of me is Legolas, to my right is Orophin and Rúmil is behind me. Haldir’s voice is not entering my ears, though; I merely hear his voice in my head. Two grey outlines of my daggers appear in what I assume are my hands; only collections of silver lights that near whatever vision I have.

Without turning my head, I am aware of something coming at me from my left and I immediately defend myself. There is a gentle clanging sound and I see two grey figures, weapons, crossing in the air beside me. I quickly spin and block an attack from behind me, taken back by how I seemed to know where things were coming from before I even knew they were coming. It made no sense, but I wasn’t complaining; it was an extremely rewarding and liberating experience.

I did not know for how long the sparring endured, it could have been seconds or years; time did not seem to exist here. Haldir’s heavy breath was in my mind as he told me I was successful. I realized I could return to how I normally was, if I truly wanted to. But Haldir instructed to do so, and I complied. I tried to comply. I turned around where I was, seeing the same four bright figures around me. I did not know how to escape. I did not recall, either, how I came to be here. I began to worry, working myself into a frenzy before a command to release was brought to my mind.

Exhaling, I was slowly coaxed back to my normal vision. I blessed the sight of green grass and white trees and golden leaves dancing past the four elves. It seemed odd now; that I should take for granted such sights. I knew not how long I had been…wherever I had been, but it felt as if it were a lifetime.

“Do not fight it, Vanya. Never fight it.” Haldir sheathed his weapon, his brothers following suit, and began to walk away. “I do wish time granted me to aid you more, but there is much to be done elsewhere. I have told Legolas much of what you need to know. Farewell.”



The Fellowship stood before a group of Elves, and the Lord and Lady. The notion that their generosity knew no bounds was evident; although they had already provided us with food and rest they now bestowed us with gifts. Over our shoulders were draped Elven cloaks, woven out of a magical fabric that could disguise its wearer in almost any surrounding. They were fastened with a green leaf with veins of silver, clasping the cloak around our necks.

“Never before have we clad strangers in the garb of our own people. “ Lord Celeborn said as we stood before him. “May they shield you from unfriendly eyes.”

Lord Celeborn took Aragorn away from us, beginning to converse in hushed voices with him as they disappeared into the mist. Galadriel came to Legolas, bearing a longbow. Into its frame was Elvish script, engraved in silver. The string seemed to glow like the moon, and I imagined it was crafted from tightly woven horse hair; horses no doubt of the Galadhrim.

"My gift for you, Legolas, is a bow of the Galadhrim, worthy of the skill of our woodland kin."

To me, next, she came; taking from one of the elves a collection of necklaces. The chains were tiny flat golden rings, all molded together. At the end of each chain was a glass vial, encased on either end by a golden cap. On the caps were raised designs of vines in faint silver, warping together and knotting. Within the vial was what seemed to be a small spiraling staircase of sorts, similar to the lets of Lothlórien. I counted, and there were five of these necklaces.

“For you, Vanya, are necklaces of my own making. Within them you may put what you see, should you wish to show others.” I accepted the gift with many thanks, holding the collection of cold metal in my hands and musing at the idea of sharing what I see. It may help in the future. I slipped them all around my neck, and they cooled my skin, hanging close to the necklace already residing there.

“These are the daggers of the Noldorin. They have already seen service in war." She presented Merry and Pippin with two small daggers, which they admired with wide eyes. Peregrin looked up at her wearily, and she smiled. “Do not fear, young Peregrin Took. You will find your courage."

"And for you, Samwise Gamgee: Elven rope, made of hithlain." The rope was thin but from experience I knew it to be deceivingly strong. Like all things in Lothlórien, it glowed with the light of the Lady. Sam took it gingerly, but not without giving a sideways glance at the daggers in possession of his hobbit kin.

"Thank you, my lady." He said quietly. "Have you run out of those nice, shiny daggers?" Lady Galadriel smiled, moving on to Boromir.

“For you, Captain of Gondor, there is not much I can give. Save hope.” She placed in his hands a vial of honey-coloured liquid. It bore a striking resemblance to the elixir Lord Elrond had sometimes indulged me in during my time in Rivendell. It gave the drinker a sense of happiness and hope, lightening the soul. Boromir nodded a thanks, staying quiet as she came to Gimli.

“And what gift would a Dwarf ask of the Elves?"

"Nothing." The Dwarf grumbled."Except to look upon the Lady of the Galadhrim one last time, for she is more fair than all the jewels beneath the earth." His flattery caused Galadriel to laugh, her illuminated form glowing beautifully against the greens and golds of the forest. Gimli began to retreat but halted, returning. “Actually, there was one thing — ah, agh, that's quite impossible. Stupid to ask."

“Speak, Gimli son of Glóin. For we may not meet again.”

“If I were to have any gift from you, my lady, it would be one hair from your golden head.” He said with his own head bowed and his voice weak. She smiled, tilting his head up and plucking multiple strands from her head. Holding them gingerly in his gloved palms, he bowed and thanked her many times. Coming to Frodo, she stopped to speak to the rest of us.

“Farewell, brave Fellowship. Free yourselves of despair and instead fill yourselves with hope; hope of a free middle-earth.” We bowed as she departed with Frodo, and went to tend to the boats. I walked alongside Legolas as he dreamily doted on his bow before stringing it on his back.

Reaching the docks, some of the elves were on shore with bundles of unknown wonder. We were given three boats from Lady Galadriel, crafted to be swift and easy to maneuver. I assumed most of the bundles were Elvish food, and I could not believe our constant good fortune. It was significantly refreshing after what seemed like a lifetime in Moria.

Into one boat I helped the three hobbits in my company, none of whom were very happy to be in a watercraft. I imagined they’d never been in a boat before, or, if they had could not swim very well. They need not worry, I said to them, for Boromir would be in control of the boat and would not readily lead it astray.

"Lembas!” Legolas exclaimed, holding up the contents of one of the bundles. “Elvish Way-bread. One small bite is enough to fill the stomach of a grown man."

Merry and Pippin looked impressed, and Sam was clearly still uncomfortable with being in a boat. He gripped either side tightly whenever one of the other hobbits moved a little, causing the boat to rock a bit. I loaded a few parcels into the front end of the boat as Merry and Pippin whispered to each other in Legolas’ absence.

“How many did you eat?” Merry asked.

“Four.” Pippin grinned sheepishly before burping as Merry patted his stomach with a content smile.

Frodo returned and I helped him into the boat I was to be in, wanting to remain as close to him as possible. It took only a few minutes to pack all of our things into the narrow ends of the boats. In the distance the elves’ singing continued on in a dream-like state, filling the air and touching everything with a hint of sadness. Boromir got into the boat with the hobbits, taking a paddle and preparing to push away from the dock. Legolas and Gimli shared a boat bearing most of the packs, leaving Aragorn and I to be with Frodo.

With a heart heavy with the prospect of leaving this realm of beauty, I took a paddle and said farewell to the Elves on shore. In synchronization we all pushed away from Lothlórien, launching into the Great River of Anduin. Aragorn alone knew where we were going, for in Gandalf’s absence he had taken up leadership of us all. In between the state I had entered this morning with the fighting, the threat of the future and the fear of the present; it took a great effort to focus on paddling straight along Anduin.