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・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
THE WINDING STAIRCASE led us to Caras Galadhon, where the towering trees seemed to embrace the heavens themselves. As we approached the grand court, a soft glow emanated from the figures descending to meet us, hand in hand. It was the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien, Celeborn and Galadriel, their presence both majestic and serene. Aragorn bowed his head reverently in greeting, a gesture of respect for their timeless wisdom and grace.
Celeborn speaks strong, "Nine that are here yet ten there were set out from Rivendell. Tell me, where is Gandalf? For I much desire to speak with him", he stated. We all looked solemnly at each other, and I shuffled closer to Legolas seeking his comfort which I had grown to like.
Galadriel, her piercing gaze filled with understanding, spoke the truth we all feared to acknowledge. "He has fallen into shadow," she declared, her words echoing with the weight of our loss. "The quest", she warned, "stands upon the edge of a knife. Stray but a little and it will fail to the ruin of all" she finished.
Boromir, unable to meet Galadriel's penetrating gaze, trembled visibly, his guilt and anguish laid bare before her. But amidst the somber atmosphere, Galadriel's words offered a glimmer of hope. "Yet hope remains while the company is true," she reassured us, her voice a soothing balm to our troubled souls.
As her gaze shifted to Sam, a warm smile graced Galadriel's lips, and for a fleeting moment, the weight of our burdens seemed to lift. "Do not let your hearts be troubled," she urged, her words imbued with a quiet strength. "Go now and rest, for you are weary with sorrow and much toil."
・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
As we settled into the designated resting area, the tranquil melody of elven voices drifted down from the trees, carrying with it a poignant lament for Gandalf. The hobbits, weary from our journey and burdened by the weight of our loss, sought solace in the soothing strains of the song.
Legolas listened to the lament with a pensive expression. "A lament for Gandalf," he murmured softly, his voice tinged with sorrow.
Merry turned to Legolas with a question in his eyes. "What do they say about him?" he inquired, his voice tinged with both curiosity and apprehension.
Legolas's response was filled with a sorrow too deep for words. "I have not the heart to tell you," he confessed, his gaze distant as memories of his fallen comrade flooded his thoughts. "For me, the grief is still too near."
As the elven voices continued to weave their mournful melody, the words of the lament echoed through the air, carrying with them a sense of reverence and sorrow.
"To guard the lands of the East," the elves sang, their voices rising and falling like the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind. "Wisest of all Maiar... What drove you to leave... That which you loved?"
