Post by Admin on Jan 9, 2021 16:05:56 GMT
Author: Erulisse
Ranking: 3rd place
Summary: When welcoming the Fellowship to Lorien, Galadriel is reminded of her brother Finrod.
Characters/Pairing: Galadriel, Celeborn, the Fellowship
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Tolkien built the sand box; I only play with the bucket and shovel that he left for me. No money, profit or non, is made from the publication of this story.
The Fellowship had arrived in Caras Galadhon the previous night. She had met them face-to-face, standing by the side of her husband. Celeborn was her life’s partner and a source of her strength. He provided her with solace on those rare times when she allowed her memories to come to the surface. Now was one of those times. He escorted her to the ramp leading to the high small flet she used for her meditation, bowing over her hand with a lingering kiss as she began the long walk to the top of the massive tree.
She had looked each of the eight surviving walkers in the eye and peered into their souls. She had sensed the love and devotion of the hobbits. Their dogged determination to help Frodo achieve his unenviable task gladdened her heart.
She saw that Aragorn was wavering on a knife’s edge as he debated whether he would take that last step to proclaim himself Isildur’s Heir. He didn’t realize that he had already made that commitment, but his path would come clear to him soon.
She wove carefully through the internal conflicts of Boromir, the son of an overbearing and unyielding father. The Steward of Gondor would welcome the Ring, but not the Ringbearer nor the King who would supplant his rule and cast him from his seat of power.
Gimli was an uncomplicated and direct warrior who possessed a deep wellspring of love and devotion towards his family and to Middle Earth. She was awed by his passion. Although she had originally welcomed him because his long-ago kin in Moria had allowed her and Celebrían passage when Sauron had besieged Eregion, she saw that he was worthy of respect on his own merit.
Finally her eyes had landed upon Legolas, son of Thranduil, King of Mirkwood and, for a moment, her heart stopped. The young, lithe, golden-haired wood elf stood in front of her self-assured, deadly, and so very reminiscent of her brother. It was apparent that his father had imbued this wood-elf with strength and determination, but the stubbornness of Thranduil was tempered with the affection that Legolas held for Aragorn and was developing for Gimli.
Suddenly instead of Legolas standing in front of her, she saw her brother, Finrod as she had last seen him when they had separated long Ages before. His golden hair had been blowing in the breeze as she had set her sights on the mountains and Ost-in-Edhil. She had looked back just before cresting the hill and he had raised his arm in farewell, the newly-risen sun momentarily lighting him, causing him to glow with life and hope She had never seen her beloved older brother again and would not unless or until she crossed West over the sea. She rapidly blinked several times to keep her tears back. It was just a momentary weakness, but it was noted by Celeborn, who took her arm into his, pulling her closer to his body and again offering her silent and unquestioning support.
After she had graciously welcomed the travelers, she made sure that they were comfortably settled with food, drink and bathing facilities. They were encouraged to relax and mourn as they wished. The hobbits gathered together, Legolas wandered off to commune with the Mallorn trees, and the others spoke softly about their lost companion, Gandalf the Grey. His death had affected all of them deeply.
Celeborn escorted his wife to the ramp leading to the high platform where she sat for meditation and remembrance. Galadriel walked up as high as she could to the highest flet and sat on a cushion, listening to the wind make the mallorn leaves sing. Much later when her thoughts had settled and her breathing had calmed, she rose to her feet and walked to a small sheltered niche. Taking a rush from the nearby holder and touching it to the single hanging lit lantern, she sheltered the small flame within her hand while she walked towards the half-wall ahead of her.
The short wall, in the shape of the crescent moon, featured a single small shelf ahead of her that held a candle and three stones. Two smaller stones in an unusual blue-grey color signified her younger brothers Angrod and Aegnor. The slightly larger stone, gleaming white with veins of pure gold, represented her brother Finrod, he who had died fulfilling his oath to the second-born man, Beren. She touched the flame to the wick of the candle and taking the white stone into her hands, sat in front of the candle watching its flickering flame and remembering her brother.
She remembered his cocky smile, his flashing eyes and his wicked sense of humor. She remembered how he had cared for all of them as they crossed the Helcaraxë together, making sure that they were cautious to ensure that all four of them arrived safely in Middle Earth. She remembered his honesty, and finally his sense of honor that was so strong and immutable. Eventually his honor had led to his death in the dungeon of Tol-in-Gaurhoth.
She missed all of her brothers. She was the last of her family still remaining in the West and she was still fighting against the evil of Melkor and his lieutenant, Sauron every day. Her hand unconsciously moved to her ring, twisting Nenya around her finger while still holding onto the white stone.
As the dawn was breaking and spears of light threaded their way through the Golden Woods, Celeborn climbed up to the small flet and stood behind his wife, placing his hands on her shoulders, once again passing his strength to her. The candle had burned down and her tears had dried once again. The visage of Legolas would still remind her of Finrod, but her gaping wound had once again been bandaged. Soon the wood-elf would be gone and the Lady of Lothlórien would once again live undisturbed by her memories and her regrets, until the next time that she needed to light a candle for a brother.
Ranking: 3rd place
Summary: When welcoming the Fellowship to Lorien, Galadriel is reminded of her brother Finrod.
Characters/Pairing: Galadriel, Celeborn, the Fellowship
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Disclaimer: Tolkien built the sand box; I only play with the bucket and shovel that he left for me. No money, profit or non, is made from the publication of this story.
The Fellowship had arrived in Caras Galadhon the previous night. She had met them face-to-face, standing by the side of her husband. Celeborn was her life’s partner and a source of her strength. He provided her with solace on those rare times when she allowed her memories to come to the surface. Now was one of those times. He escorted her to the ramp leading to the high small flet she used for her meditation, bowing over her hand with a lingering kiss as she began the long walk to the top of the massive tree.
She had looked each of the eight surviving walkers in the eye and peered into their souls. She had sensed the love and devotion of the hobbits. Their dogged determination to help Frodo achieve his unenviable task gladdened her heart.
She saw that Aragorn was wavering on a knife’s edge as he debated whether he would take that last step to proclaim himself Isildur’s Heir. He didn’t realize that he had already made that commitment, but his path would come clear to him soon.
She wove carefully through the internal conflicts of Boromir, the son of an overbearing and unyielding father. The Steward of Gondor would welcome the Ring, but not the Ringbearer nor the King who would supplant his rule and cast him from his seat of power.
Gimli was an uncomplicated and direct warrior who possessed a deep wellspring of love and devotion towards his family and to Middle Earth. She was awed by his passion. Although she had originally welcomed him because his long-ago kin in Moria had allowed her and Celebrían passage when Sauron had besieged Eregion, she saw that he was worthy of respect on his own merit.
Finally her eyes had landed upon Legolas, son of Thranduil, King of Mirkwood and, for a moment, her heart stopped. The young, lithe, golden-haired wood elf stood in front of her self-assured, deadly, and so very reminiscent of her brother. It was apparent that his father had imbued this wood-elf with strength and determination, but the stubbornness of Thranduil was tempered with the affection that Legolas held for Aragorn and was developing for Gimli.
Suddenly instead of Legolas standing in front of her, she saw her brother, Finrod as she had last seen him when they had separated long Ages before. His golden hair had been blowing in the breeze as she had set her sights on the mountains and Ost-in-Edhil. She had looked back just before cresting the hill and he had raised his arm in farewell, the newly-risen sun momentarily lighting him, causing him to glow with life and hope She had never seen her beloved older brother again and would not unless or until she crossed West over the sea. She rapidly blinked several times to keep her tears back. It was just a momentary weakness, but it was noted by Celeborn, who took her arm into his, pulling her closer to his body and again offering her silent and unquestioning support.
After she had graciously welcomed the travelers, she made sure that they were comfortably settled with food, drink and bathing facilities. They were encouraged to relax and mourn as they wished. The hobbits gathered together, Legolas wandered off to commune with the Mallorn trees, and the others spoke softly about their lost companion, Gandalf the Grey. His death had affected all of them deeply.
Celeborn escorted his wife to the ramp leading to the high platform where she sat for meditation and remembrance. Galadriel walked up as high as she could to the highest flet and sat on a cushion, listening to the wind make the mallorn leaves sing. Much later when her thoughts had settled and her breathing had calmed, she rose to her feet and walked to a small sheltered niche. Taking a rush from the nearby holder and touching it to the single hanging lit lantern, she sheltered the small flame within her hand while she walked towards the half-wall ahead of her.
The short wall, in the shape of the crescent moon, featured a single small shelf ahead of her that held a candle and three stones. Two smaller stones in an unusual blue-grey color signified her younger brothers Angrod and Aegnor. The slightly larger stone, gleaming white with veins of pure gold, represented her brother Finrod, he who had died fulfilling his oath to the second-born man, Beren. She touched the flame to the wick of the candle and taking the white stone into her hands, sat in front of the candle watching its flickering flame and remembering her brother.
She remembered his cocky smile, his flashing eyes and his wicked sense of humor. She remembered how he had cared for all of them as they crossed the Helcaraxë together, making sure that they were cautious to ensure that all four of them arrived safely in Middle Earth. She remembered his honesty, and finally his sense of honor that was so strong and immutable. Eventually his honor had led to his death in the dungeon of Tol-in-Gaurhoth.
She missed all of her brothers. She was the last of her family still remaining in the West and she was still fighting against the evil of Melkor and his lieutenant, Sauron every day. Her hand unconsciously moved to her ring, twisting Nenya around her finger while still holding onto the white stone.
As the dawn was breaking and spears of light threaded their way through the Golden Woods, Celeborn climbed up to the small flet and stood behind his wife, placing his hands on her shoulders, once again passing his strength to her. The candle had burned down and her tears had dried once again. The visage of Legolas would still remind her of Finrod, but her gaping wound had once again been bandaged. Soon the wood-elf would be gone and the Lady of Lothlórien would once again live undisturbed by her memories and her regrets, until the next time that she needed to light a candle for a brother.