Dearest Atanoné,
It seems as if a century has passed since I spoke with you last, and I hope that this letter finds you well. As much as I love Imladris, I must admit that The Golden Wood is wondrous indeed. I know, I know, I complained enough about being ‘dragged out into the woods.’ I believe that “May The Valar send me to The Halls of Mandos now, if I must endure much more of your complaints!” were the exact words to fall from your lips. What would you have done had they complied? Not that there was any chance of that happening. I bet Mandos is not ready for the likes of you.
I promised to write, so let me tell you what has happened since I left Imladris. By the way, I feel that I shall enjoy Aearion’s punishment for our little escapade. As soon as Lord Elrond has calmed down, I shall have to remember to thank him for assigning that scamp to courier duty. We can send as much as we like. As it is, this very missive threatens to become a package of paper and ink, rather than a simple letter. I am NOT however, looking forward to what my punishment might be. I am to meet with The Lord and Lady of the Golden Wood tomorrow morning. (Then again, it would not be punishment if I were looking forward to it, right?)
Speaking of punishments, I think it is horribly unfair that yours should be one of my fondest dreams. Lord Erestor has never had need of an assistant, and I cannot remember him taking on any students in centuries. You must tell me all about the inner library, the private scrolls, the historical documents, and of course, of Lord Erestor himself. Have you visited Lord Elrond’s study? How about Lord Erestor? I am no longer wondering about Lord Glorfindel’s. Perhaps I shall stay in Lothlorien to avoid having to organize it when I return home.
I already miss hearing the Bruinen cascading through the valley. Although the Celebrant flows swiftly through Lothlorien to the Anduin, the Nimrodel murmurs through the trees, as tranquil as the wood itself. The Wood ‘Ne! One day, you should visit The Golden Wood. I shall try to describe it to you, but no matter what I say, it will fall short of doing it justice. Ai! I jump ahead of myself, so I will tell you in a bit.
The morning we left was misty and cool. We rode for the better half of the day before we stopped to water the horses and stretch our legs. Neither Aearion nor I had spoken a word to each other the entire time. I rode at the head of the party near Elladan, and he stayed near the rear with Elrohir. At least most of the time I was sure of which twin I rode with. I know that they switched places every so often. I would have to explain what I was talking about at times, if I happened to reintroduce a topic of earlier conversation. Their memory is impeccable, so the poor excuse of being preoccupied did not fly. How is it after hundreds of years I am still unable to tell the difference between the two most of the time? If I could look into their eyes for any length of time I would know, for their souls would tell me who was who. But I find that for some reason, I cannot bear to do so. I am afraid of the dark things they have seen since our Lady of Imladris was attacked by orcs. Their years with The Rangers have changed them, I barely recognize them at times. They have not been the same since their mother sailed for the Undying Lands. And there is something else I am afraid of, although I will not dwell on that thought more than I have to.
Anyhow, by the time we had stopped to water the horses, the mists had disappeared and the sunlight filtering through the forest canopy was warm. The twins joined me as I was cooling my feet in a stream away from the rest of the travelers. They sat on either side of me, and I could feel the poisonous looks from a certain elleth [1] who was not far upstream from me as they did so. Will Galangal learn that she has not a chance in Arda [4] to win the heart of either brother? Either way, it isn’t as if I did either, so what is she worried about? They have been my friends since we were elflings.
They began to pester me with a myriad of questions about our ‘offence’, although I am sure that they knew the whole story. They are as sly and wily as that Gollum creature dear Bilbo told us about. What they did not overhear, I am sure they finessed out of the kitchen staff. In the end, I told them a condensed version of the entire affair. I won’t bother to rehash it here, since you were there. After I finished, I was left with two-stunned Peredhil [2] for company. Neither of them spoke for several moments.
Elladan laughed. “Well, even Elrohir and I are not mad enough to tamper with the Balrog Slayers hair products.”
“For the record,” I sputtered, “ if Gerin had read both of the labels correctly he would have read ‘Galangal’ not ‘Glorfindel’, and I might not be traveling to Lothlorien with that orc spawn. At least he got the other label right and delivered it to its intended recipient.” I shot Galangal a glare that could have made her now moss green hair curl as nicely as Lord Glorfindels did.
At this point, it appeared as if Elrohir were choking, as he was emitting strange sounds. “Go ahead and laugh, My Lord. I know you want to.” I pouted before I poked him in the ribs.
He admitted to barely escaping with his life after being shocked into fits of laughter when the Lord Of The House of The Golden Flower barged into his fathers study with gorgeous curly locks. Has he calmed down at all? Is his hair still curly? That is one thing I do not envy you. You share the same corner of Arda as Lord Glorfindel. An upset Elf Lord/Balrog Slayer is not my idea of a good neighbor.
Going back to what I was saying: Much sooner than I would have wished, we resumed our journey. It took me several minutes to catch my horse, since he mysteriously became un-tethered and ended up wandering away from our group. Galangal had a nasty smile on her face the entire time, so I think it is safe to surmise that she had something to do with it. I’d complain about the fact that she does not act her age, but I would be nothing short of a hypocrite for doing so. After all, she is not the only one being sent away from home to ‘think upon how we have acted, and to decide whether or not we would act as the mature and dignified ellith and ellon [3] that we are.’ I believe it was Lord Glorfindel who concocted our punishments. I can’t say that I blame him.
Even with Elrohir’s help, the sun was well into the afternoon sky by the time I returned to the rest of the group. Our leisurely pace was abandoned for the time being in an effort to reach our intended campsite while there was still light. We made good time and settled in for the night well before night fell. Thank the Valar that I am an experienced rider. Surprisingly, I did not hear a disparaging comment from Galangal concerning my so-called unladylike habits. Undomiel herself is one of the best riders in Imladris, so I think that her remarks are born of jealousy.
I did not have as many chances as I would have liked to speak with Arwen during the journey. Now that we are in Lothlorien, I do not know how often I will be able to visit with her. Much to Galangals pleasure, I assume. She would enjoy life more if she were not so consumed with her jealous streak. I suspect that Galangal was a very sore and upset elleth after our ‘altered pace’, and I did not worry about the whereabouts of my mount from then on.
Somewhere around the third day, Aearion and I resumed speaking to each other. I was tired of the twins threatening to invite the Orc Spawn to ride with them if Aearion and I did not ‘kiss and make up’. I told them that they could invite whomever they wished to ride with them, but they could not count on me to lower my standards as well. I held that I would not be responsible for her safety should she come within kicking distance of my horse. It was their taunts of ‘lovers quarrel’ and Galangals constant whining that drove me to swallow my pride and apologize. I would prefer to re-label all the bottles in the healing rooms than bear her company. Her voice is NOT elven-fair.
I took my leave of Undomiel and allowed my horse to drop to the rear of the party where Aearion was and apologized at once. If I had known the effect my apology would have upon him I would have done it sooner. He became slack-jawed, and began to stutter something about the end of Arda as he knew it, for ‘Nólemíre herself has apologized first.’
I shrugged my shoulders and nonchalantly commented that ‘I was rash and acting childish. I know that you were not the one responsible for my actions. I acted upon my own free will, and neither did I tell anyone that you were the mastermind of the entire affair. As a matter of fact, I named no accomplices.’
Aearion apologized in return, and admitted to acting like an elfling and not the young Elf Lord that he was. I noticed that he spat the words ‘Elf Lord’ out as if the words tasted vile upon his lips. I don’t think he will ever come to terms with his title. He maintains that it should be earned and not passed down from parent to son like a vase. If you ask me his time spent as a Ranger and as part of the Imladris Guard have made him wise beyond his millennia. I never ask him what he learned under the tutelage of the March Warden of Lothlorien. But whatever happened during his last visit to The Golden Wood has made a lasting impression upon him.
The rest of our journey was uneventful. I was thankful to leave the mountains behind (no matter how experienced a rider I am, I will never get used to a ride across the mountains.). The closer we got to Lothlorien, the more anxious I became. The sight of my first mallorns made me forget all about my impending punishment. Arwen’s silvery laugh followed me as I urged my horse closer to the nearest one. I let my palm rest on the silver bark of its massive trunk and closed my eyes. I lingered for several moments just listening to its life force. There were no words spoken, but the great mallorn welcomed me to the wood and a great sense of tranquility washed over me. With a smile I thanked the tree and wished it a long life of peace. I caught a golden blossom as it floated to the forest floor and held my cupped hand to my nose as I breathed in its fragrance.
I had been so caught up in my conversation with the tree that I was surprised by a male voice behind me. “Were it not for your dark hair and your manner of dress, I would take you for a Sylvan Elf just now and not a maiden of Imladris, My Lady.”
Without turning, I responded rather tartly. “And just where would you take me, were I a Sylvan Elf My Lord? Is my dark hair not pleasing to you?”
A second decidedly unfamiliar voice was the one to answer my impertinence. “My wager would be to escort you to the feast this evening. And perhaps a dance or two, eh Brother? You always sing of Tinuviel [5].”
I turned around only to wish that a great chasm would open up beneath me and swallow me whole. In my shock, I let the blossom I had been admiring fall to the forest floor. The Valar take my foolish tongue for speaking without thinking! Before me stood three of the Galadhrim Guard, fair haired and alike enough in face for me to surmise that all three were brothers. The two elves on the ends had their bows drawn. While the one on the left was trying to hide his amusement with a shy smile, the one on the right openly grinned at me, reminding me of Aearion when he is having a laugh at our expense. Apparently it was the ellon in the center who had first spoken to me, for the very tips of his ears were flushed and his gaze had an un-nerving affect on me. He had no weapon drawn, but his left hand rested upon the hilt of his sword. His uniform was the same as his brothers, but his cloak and its clasp differed from theirs.
“On the contrary, your dark hair is as beautiful as The Evenstar’s. I find it very pleasing.” He said with a smirk.
I could do little more than sit there rather stupidly, in shock at what I had just said. I had assumed it to be Elladan, who had been next to me the last time I had bothered to pay attention to my surroundings. “I apologize My Lord,” I said carefully after I had regained some control of my senses. “I had thought you to be someone else.”
I could not draw my eyes away from his, for what reason I still do not know. If you were to ask me at that moment what color they were I probably could not tell you. However, now I can tell you that they never stay the same. Sometimes they are a golden brown, sometimes they are green and flecked with gold, and sometimes they are mossy green and almost grey.
I was spared explaining myself further when he broke his gaze from mine and addressed our party. “Welcome to Lothlorien. Our Lord and Lady await your arrival. We shall escort you from here into Caras Galadhron.” He said with a nod.
“Well met, Haldir of Lorien.” Elladan replied, having reappeared from where ever it was he had gone to. I scowled at him, but he only grinned cheekily and continued. “ We bring our sister Undomiel, as well as three others that our Grandparents are expecting. May I present Lord Aearion, Galangal of Imladris, and, of course, the Lady Nólemíre.”
A flash of emotion that I was unable to read flickered in his eyes as his gaze once again rested upon me. His lips still curled in a small smirk giving him the appearance of being haughty and aloof. I was too busy chastising myself mentally. Haldir of Lorien! This was not how I envisioned meeting the Galadrim March Warden. I can just imagine you laughing right now as you read this. Go ahead. I deserve it. I decided to avoid him for the rest of the journey to Caras Galadhron.
While I was busy wallowing in embarrassment, Arwen and Galangal had brought their horses forward. Arwen gave me a reassuring smile before nodding at the trio of warriors. She nudged her horse forward while Galangal and I rode on each side of her.
Galangal did not even look in my direction. The expression on her face made her look as if she smelled something bad. “Can you not curb your tongue Nólemíre?” she growled without bothering to look at me. I think she was sour at her introduction, for Elladan had not introduced her as ‘Lady’ Galangal of Imladris. Why should he? She is no more a lady than Aearion is.
Some days I wish we were elflings, Atanone. I would dearly love to take her to task. Do you remember the day she pushed me into the pond? I believe it was on the day of my one-hundredth begetting day celebration that I tackled her and dunked her several times for it. There certainly has never been any love lost between us since then.
Thankfully, she maneuvered her horse closer to Haldir so I was able to enjoy the ride through the mallorns in peace. Sunlight fell to the forest floor in beams filtered through the canopy of golden blooms and new leaves. The closer we got to Caras Galadhron, the denser the population of mallorn became. Their massive silvery trunks were sometimes dripping with delicate vines, and tiny flowers peeped out from amongst the gnarled roots of the great trees.
After an hour or so, Arwen turned towards me and asked me what I thought of the March Warden. I told her that I did not think of him at all. I did not look in her direction either as I said so. She laughingly replied that she did not believe me. “Besides,” she said, “it does not take my Grandmothers gift to feel the energy whenever you two glance at each other, despite the looks of disinterest on your faces.” She smiled knowingly before turning back to her own thoughts. “We have been friends for over two millennia now, Mirë. If no one else can sense it, I can. The March Warden intrigues you.”
I opened my mouth to say something more, but found I had not the words. Her gaze was still trained forward, but her lips curved into a smirk. I shook my head and tried to think about anything else besides the March Warden.
A silvery voice tickled the edge of my thoughts. “Welcome to Lothlorien, Ithiliel [6] . Do not turn your thoughts away from paths of possibility. Even those that appear dark must be considered in order for the paths of light to appear brighter.”
I was startled at first, but her voice was so soothing that I relaxed instantly. Only Galadriel still called me Ithiliel. I mentally thanked her for her welcome and wondered what she meant by ‘paths of possibility’.
“We shall speak of it later. For now, enjoy the rest of your journey through Lorien.” She said before withdrawing. “ I look forward to seeing you again.”
When she was ‘gone’, I looked around to see Aearion smiling and Galangal flushed and frowning. The Lady must have spoken with them as well. I turned at the sound of Arwen’s horse next to mine and broke into a fit of laughter when I saw the wicked grin on her face. Galangal glared at our outburst, which caused us to laugh again. I resorted to childish behavior as we passed her and poked my tongue out at her.
By the time we approached Caras Galadhron, I was weary of riding, so I decided to dismount and lead my horse the rest of the way. I waved off a guard who offered to take him from me. When we came to the great gates, I was unprepared for their magnificence.
I gasped in wonder at their beauty and then nearly jumped out of my skin when Haldir spoke beside me. “The beauty of the gates pale in comparison.” He said quietly.
When I asked him ‘in comparison to what’, he quickly looked at me sideways and said ‘the city of course.’ He continued to walk beside me while we both struggled with the silence. I ended up apologizing again for embarrassing myself. “I thought you were Elladan. He was right beside me the last time I bothered to pay attention.”
That infuriating ellon actually chuckled! “It is quite all right My Lady. While your response shocked me, I admit that I find it a refreshing change. Are you always so bold?”
“I would be here under more pleasant circumstances were I not.” I replied. “Is it your habit to sneak up on a lady and startle her by speaking suddenly?”
He did not answer me, but instead asked whether or not it was truly the latest fashion in Imladris to dye ones hair unnatural colors. He glanced in Galangals direction with a slight frown as he did so. I asked him why he did not ask Galangal, and was rewarded with a greater frown from Haldir. Apparently it was not his wish to engage the lady in any conversation for fear that his ears might fall off from her incessant chatter. I followed his glance again, and met with a pair of angry eyes and a scowl. I smiled at her graciously before I turned away.
“It appears as if she does not care for you very much.” He observed. “She seemed quite offended when I referred to you as her friend.”
“No she does not.” I replied. “She and I have never been friends.” With a sigh, I told him the reason behind our visit to Lothlorien. I figured that he would find out sooner or later. If my first words to The March Warden did not shock him, my revelation certainly did. He was speechless for several moments, processing the fact that we had involved Lord Glorfindel (however inadvertently) in our prank.
Eventually he shook his head and commented that you and I must be the female versions of the Peredhil twins. Aearion had spoken often about us. I had forgotten for a moment that Aearion had been under his tutelage. I wonder what else he has said. On second thought, perhaps I do not want to know.
Not long afterwards, he excused himself. Before he disappeared, he mentioned that he would see me at the feast. I nodded and continued walking determined to enjoy the rest of my journey. Unfortunately, Galangal had other plans for me. She brought her horse along side mine, and surveyed me coolly.
Before she could speak, I commented that I no longer wondered at the March Wardens hastened departure. It did not sit well with her, for the sneer on her face was one that promised no good.
“I would not set my sights upon the March Warden of Lothlorien if I were you.” She stared down her finely sculpted nose at me as she was speaking. “He would choose an elleth who has at least reached her majority in mind as well as body.” She said frostily.
“And I suppose that you are just the elleth for him?” I responded just as coldly. “After all, you are all things an ellon could ever want.”
She obviously missed the note of sarcasm in my voice as she assured me that she was indeed the elleth meant for Haldir of Lorien. Where have we heard that before Atanoné? Was she not the elleth meant for Elladan, Elrohir, Lord Erestor, Lord Glorfindel and even Aearion? And then there was Gildor. The poor elf actually courted her for centuries before she showed her true colors. I cannot remember the last time I have seen him. He used to tell such marvelous tales in the Hall of Fire. The last I heard, he had taken to roaming the forests between Imladris and The Grey Havens. Only such a one as Galangal could drive an ellon from his home. Lord Elrond is lucky to be bound. I am sure she would attempt to set her sights on him as well.
“And what of Lord Elrohir? Did you not say you were sure to announce your betrothal any time now?” I asked sweetly. “Or was it Lord Elladan? Perhaps you wish to be bound to both?”
That elleth has no shame. She actually told me that I must be mistaken, and that the ‘young’ elf lords were merely close friends of hers. She said that perhaps it was my insecurity and jealousy that colored my opinions. She suggested that if I were to play my cards right, I may land one of them as a husband someday, and even went so far as to graciously offer to ‘teach’ me how to win the affections of a suitable ellon. Apparently, I lack the feminine graces and wiles necessary to land a mate.
‘For all of the fine gowns and airs you put on, you are still lacking in feminine charm, Nólemíre.” She sniffed. “You are far too fond of weaponry, horses and books. If you plan on either of the Peredhil twins as a life mate, you must really learn the art of femininity. Even your beloved Atanoné would do well to heed my advice. Lord Aearion needs an elleth who can keep his affairs in order and represent him well.”
As soon as that last little nugget of wisdom left her lips, I ceased walking and stood there staring at her with my mouth hanging open. I wasn’t sure what shocked me more; the possibility of either of the twin Elf Lords of Imladris as a feä [7] mate, the idea that I was not feminine enough, or the mere thought of you keeping Aearion’s affairs in order. I shook my head and resumed walking. She was rambling on about ‘ill manners’ and ‘life of solitude’ as I walked away from her, but I was tired of her company. The great gates were behind us by now, and another group of Galadrim Elves were waiting to take our mounts, before showing us to our lodgings.
I bade goodbye to my horse before he was led away, and followed a beautiful elleth who appeared at my side as soon as I did so. Aurë is daylight itself, and although she is our age, her feä does not feel new to me. Do not ask me how I know, but I believe she is an old soul, re-housed into a new body.
She led me to a talan [8] that afforded me a wonderful view of the wood as well as the very center of Caras Galadhron itself, depending upon which way you look. The city is beautiful, Atanone! The very city seems to hang from the trees like a lantern, yet appear to have sprung from the trees themselves. An ethereal glow emanates from each portal and opening, while tiny orbs of light dance and flicker along the delicate stairs that wind around the mallorns. Imladris has its own elegance, but next to Caras Galadhron, it is strong and almost stuffy. Lothlorien is gentle and graceful.
The talan is spectacularly simple and elegant all at the same time. The furnishings are sparse, but the detail to each piece is incredible. There is a sitting area with a bookcase, chaise lounge and sofa. There is also a dining nook with a small table with two chairs. My sleeping quarters are equally simple, and soothing. My bed is curtained with filmy sheets of gauze, and the bed appears to be a part of the mallorn. I don’t believe that the intricate, flowing designs were carved out of the tree. I believe that they were made by the mallorn itself. There is a separate dressing area with a mirror, armoire and a vanity. My favorite part of the talan is the ledge that faces the east, away from the city itself. I shall be able to greet the dawn if I choose, or enjoy the twilight as I wait for the stars to appear.
I am writing this letter from the ledge as I wait for my escort to the feast. Aurë had mentioned that someone would come for me when it was time. Before she left, she helped me to unpack my belongings. I had not even noticed how or when they appeared. She found a place for everything. It is almost as if the talan was furnished especially for me.
When we were done, I followed her down to the baths. The bathing pools are wonders in themselves. They are crystal clear, and fed from streams of warm water that pour from fissures in a large boulder that sits above the pools. One can stand beneath the small cascades that fall from the rock. The pools empty out into another small stream that eventually meets the Nimrodel.
Aurë eventually had to pull me from the baths with the reminder that we still had to dress for the welcoming feast. She all but dragged me back to my talan and helped me with my hair before she left. To my surprise, she had already laid two dresses on my bed, saving me from the agony of wondering what would be most suitable. I settled on the black dress with the silver and ebony threaded accents. (The one you gave me before I left.)
That was a couple of hours ago. I am not sure though. Time runs differently here in Lothlorien. Aurë has returned, and is asking if I would like to send this letter out with her cousin who is leaving for Imladris with a semi urgent parcel for Lord Glorfindel. I can only imagine what it is. I shall have to apologize to him when he returns, since I have the distinct feeling that if weren’t for us, he would not be missing the feast. I shall describe it to you in detail the next time I write.
Aurë is getting impatient, so I close with my fondest regards. I wish you sweet water and light laughter until next we meet.
Nólemíre
